


Traveling The Inner World

by She_Who_Only_Knows_War



Series: Traveling The Inner World [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: .... Ish, Abuse, Angst, BAMF Women, Bad Parenting, Bisexuality, Characters That Don't Support the Gay Lifestyle, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Different Chapters Follow Different Characters, Drama, Drug Addiction, Excessive use of the "f" word, Forced Non-Romantic Bonding, Forced Relationship, Foul-Mouthed Characters, I'm Not Really Sure...., Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Incest, Inhuman characters, Interspecies Relationships, Manipulation, Multi, Non-sexual Full Body Examination, Polyamory, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, Referenced Forced Prostitution, Sexual Content, Size Difference, Slavery, Stuff That May Count as Animalistic Behavior, Tags May Change, attempts at humor, does it count?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 50
Words: 122,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Only_Knows_War/pseuds/She_Who_Only_Knows_War
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simply put, the working out of my characters and their personalities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Young Man's Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to better flesh out my characters (Or try to) and see if I can build deeper, stronger relationships between them. (Or, at the very least, enhance my writing skills. Because every little bit helps)  
> Lastly, please do inform me of spelling errors as this is currently unbeta-ed.  
> 

He had died. He knew he did. Or maybe this whole thing had been a dream. His heart fluttered at the idea of going home and being welcomed by his mother and little brother.

But he couldn't ignore the six-foot hole he was residing in and the smell of turned earth.  
No. No, this couldn't be possible. What happened? _What happened?_

"Are you going to cower in your hole forever, Child?" A woman with dark red hair was perched at the edge of the hole, looking at him with thinned lips. "Get up." She smelled like death.

The whole place did, he realized. He shivered at the thought. "Who are you?" He'd never seen her in the village. He would remember such a stern woman.

"Renjin Toko," She said. The chill of the fall weather turning her face rosy. "Now give me your hand, boy." Her own extending to him. This wasn't an offer but a command. Her hand was warm when his clasped it. But gooseflesh rose along her arm.

He was so cold. She pulled him up with only a little effort. Which wasn't saying much because he had a thin frame to begin with. The stench of death was overwhelming now. And looking around he was horrified to find human remains strewn about.

What caused such a massacre? "Did you kill all of these people?" His voice was shaky. Almost frantic.

She considered her answer, absently looking at the carnage. "In a way," She said. "But in the same way, so did you."

The very idea of him doing anything like this was the last straw that overwhelmed him. Feeling his stomach churn, he had only enough time to turn away from the woman and wretch until he was dry heaving into his own grave. Oh God! His grave! He was dead. _He was dead!_

“Now that we’ve,” She paused to find the right word, no doubt, “established that you cannot go back,” Because she couldn't possibly lay him to rest in this particular hole now, “Come along.”

“Are you escorting me home?” He blurted before he could stop it.

She stared at him. “To the humans?”

Confused, he nodded.

She resisted a sneer. “No.”

“What?” He raised his voice. “Why?”

She looked as though she wanted to lay hands on him for a moment and he fought the urge the scuttle back, away from her. He didn’t want her to think he was a coward and because she brought him back to life, there was no purpose for killing him either.

“I won’t allow it,” She said.

“Please.” His voice crackled. “Please let me see my family again. I need to know if they’re okay.”

A glimmer of something flitted across the back of the woman’s eyes. “Fine. But do not interact with them.”

“Why?”

“Because you will not willingly return to me if you do.” Her tone was matter of fact.

Perhaps he should have spent more time musing over the conversation. But he couldn't bring himself to care. He was far too happy. He ran so fast he felt as though he were practically flying over the land, he felt fresh and new and just a little funny. Maybe it was from what had happened today. Maybe it was being on the cusp of what his mother called Manhood. Although, really, he'd been the man of the house for some time before this Coming-of-Age business. Either way, he was faster than he had remembered and he loved it.

He slowed to a quiet walk as he approached the sleepy village he had grown up in. Getting in would be simple. He slipped over a wall he knew would have few guards at this time, having worked this wall himself. Besides, they were repairing the damage done from the last attack.

The one that took his life.

He felt his world tilt just slightly at the notion that he had been lucky yet so very unlucky, but did his best to ignore it.

The village had put a sword in his hand the moment he was deemed old enough to fight. He had died protecting this place and his family that had been carefully hidden away inside of it. And even if that woman tried to stop him, he would do it again.

He walked past the old, closed down school he had once attended. It had been shut down in the middle of the school year. They never did say what they were going to do with it. They had built a new one near the Town Square. He came to a crossroads and took the road on the left, past the new church with all of its beautiful stained glass windows. He had helped, or tried to, put those windows in. His hands had been monstrously cut up by the end of that day.

When he finally made it to the little cottage at the end of the dirt path, not far from the park he and his brother once played in, he looked through the window and was relieved to see his family having a meal at the table. The table he grew up sitting at. His mother was pale and somber and his usually robust brother was too thin and a touch wan. Longing filled his heart. He struggled with the woman's orders and his worry for his family.

 _She won't know if her orders aren't followed_ , He decided. He rapped on the door with his knuckles and gave a winning smile when the door opened. His mother stared at him in disbelief.

His brother came running to the door when she gave a heart wrenching scream.

He pushed his way into the house and after a lot of freaking out, he had the chance to explain what happened.

"You're filthy," His mother said after about five minutes of silence. Probably because she was still in shock. "Go bathe."

No complaints there. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized he was covered in dirt. No wonder she had such a reaction.  
When he exited the shower, so clean he was probably shiny, he was quite happy. The happiest he'd been all day.

His mother insisted on feeding him. He wasn't hungry but ate anyways because he wasn't sure when he would see her next. And he would miss her cooking. His brother had so many things to tell him that they all stayed up talking and laughing and crying until dawn.

Then he knew he had a problem. Because he had no intention of going back to the woman that had resurrected him. Maybe he never did.  
His mother and brother had gone to bed. So he decided he would make breakfast for them. Maybe a brunch because they were exhausted. He was tired. But he wasn't sleepy.  
He hummed to himself as he fried the eggs but a shadow moved in his peripheral. Turning to look, he found nothing but the shadow cast by a tree limb outside the window.

"What did I say to you?" Her voice was low, graveled with hot, burning anger.

He shrugged, choosing not to even grace her with a glance. "That I wouldn't return to you if I interacted with them." He put the eggs on a large plate. "You were right."

Being thrown across the kitchen, into the counter, head banging against the cupboards, was something he knew would bruise him. Not badly. But enough to distract him.

Renjin, he remembered finally, that was her name. Casually, she turned the burner off. "Don't make a fuss." Her tone was light, not so angry anymore. "And come with me."

"Why should I?" He asked, slowly standing and setting a defiant posture.

"Because if not," She idly picked up the frying pan and put it in the sink, "I will torch this precious little town of yours and kill everyone in it."

Fear twisted in his gut. Surely she wasn't like that. She had been rather lenient with him the last twenty-four hours, so he really couldn't see her doing it.

Her lips thinned, shoulders rolling back. "You doubt me?"

He bit the inside of his lip, unsure how to reply.

"I thought so," She said.

And then she snapped.

He waited. And waited. And nothing happened.

Renjin seemed irked by this. "The manual way it is," She said, turning to go up the stairs. "Who should die first? You mother or that pathetic whimpering thing you call a brother?"

Too afraid to be stung by the insults, he jumped between her and the first step. "Neither. Please don't kill them."

"Ah," Said Renjin. "I was too nice the last time you said please." She pushed past him.

He quickened his pace and got in her path mid-way up. "I'll go with you. I will!"

"Che." She pushed past him again. "Stop your whining little whelp."

Desperate by the time she was nearly to his brother's room he threw himself in front of the door. "You will have to kill me first!"

"You have no idea what you are saying," She said.

This time though, when she reached to brush him aside, he felt heat rush up inside like a fountain and pushed her away. "No!" He cried. "You won't touch him!" Every word was accentuated by a push from himself and a hiss from Renjin. How dare she threaten his family?! How dare she come into his house and make all of these strange demands and then scare him out of his wits?! He was _eleven_ , damn it!

Her hand swiped him across the face and he went down. "Enough!" She roared.

But he wasn't afraid this time. They were nearly to the stairs and she was covered in burns.  
She had _let_ him do this.  
He was surprised that she had let him push her so far.

Her lips had started to twitch, trying to curl with wrath. "Get up." Her hand shot out like a snake and caught his arm. She then jerked him ruthlessly to his feet. There was another bruise he knew he would have. And it occurred to him, of all times, just how much bigger she was than he.

"Come." This was an order he knew he would follow. "And don't you _dare_ look back."

As much as he wanted to, he didn't.

He trailed behind her, staring at his hands. Those burns were not something he was capable of before. This was so weird.

"You should know that from the moment you leave this village, you belong to me. And while I feel it is not suited to you," He could hear the, _You don't deserve it_ in the tone, "You will be called Sorajin."

"But my name is-"

"I don't care what your name **was**." Her eyes are sharper than a knife when they turn on him. "All that matters now is that you understand that you are not the sniveling child you were before."

"And a new name will help that?" He let more sarcasm than he intended slip. But hey, she was being a complete pain in the arse.

"Yes," She said, eyes half-lidded in a way that might have been annoyance.

"What does that even mean?" Their language was different. He had only heard about it from crazy old men on drinking binges and old books from the cathedral library that he may or may not have slunk into under false claims of official business. He was the protector of the village, right? The knowledge was important.

"Continuous Blade," She said. He instantaneously thought it was stupid but he wasn't sure if it was because she said it or he didn't like it. Because he didn't like her either.

"What kind of name is that?"

"One your mother would never give you." She didn't look back, knowing he would follow.

"Why that one?"

"If you keep being a little twit, I might just show you." Her tone was light and dangerous at the same time. Like she might not want to like him either but he was likable so she had to.

"I'm not a twit." It sounded much more childish spoken than in his head.

Renjin, this time, did look at him. Her lips quirked up. "No. No, you are not. And this is why I chose you."


	2. The Bells of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I mention these chapters aren't in chronological order?  
> It's been awhile since I've tried to write anything action-y. I figured I should try my hand again.

The rain was cold. Probably the coldest it had been this season. It pelted him with drops that were heavy like stones and stung like needles.

Kajiim walked beside him. Any sane woman would trudge. Or even abandon the mission.

But not his Kajiim.

Never his Kajiim.

He wished he could have given her more protection but he couldn't afford to be seen at this point. Surprise was his greatest weapon. And the weather was his most skilled tool.

Everything had lined up the way he had hoped. But the storm was more stern with him than he had really expected.  
Their target was none other than the red-haired menace. Not Renjin herself, but her elder brother. The one with the military and enough violence to make large Clans step down.

Thanks to the man's father, they were only at half strength. Grief gripped his heart but he ruthlessly shoved it down. There was no time to think about the pain he had stupidly let fester.

Sasayo refocused, attention drawing back to the opportunity before them and smirking as he watched them try to get one of their wagons free of the mud. The rest of the caravan had left it behind. Kajiim, beginning to shiver beside him, seemed to be on the same wave-length.

Dispatching the men was simple. And the supplies were so plentiful, Sasayo almost decided taking them was more important.

Until he realized that there was always a purpose for simple victories.

Anayo was sitting inside the wagon, staring at him with the glowing green eyes every one of that damnable family seemed to have. "What?" He asked. "Not going to take my stuff and run?"  
Sasayo was a little lost at the question.

Kajiim drew her weapon, a long, thin sword. "Not before killing you." Her voice was soft. A balm to his soul even when issuing a threat.

Anayo just smiled at her. But one corner of his lip was trying to pull up in a sneer. A Toko family trait.  
Before Kajiim could set foot into the wagon, Sasayo grabbed her arm. Something was wrong. And until they knew what, it was best to retreat.  
Kajiim didn't argue. There was reluctance to leave him unscathed after everything, and Sasayo felt the same way. But now, even with circumstances in Sasayo's favor, he didn't want to risk it.

"You've learned well, boy." Anayo called after him, even though he was only a year younger. "If only your brother had been as smart as you."

Sasayo stood ram-rod straight. Turning to make his own attack. But just as suddenly, Kajiim was pushing him away from the wagon. "We're not going to die because you were stupid from anger," She said.

He knew she was right. If it had only been him, he would have gone back and willingly been slain in the name of his brother. But he couldn't risk Kajiim, or anyone else on his list of responsibilities.

And he had so many responsibilities.

Anayo watched them in stunned silence. "Are you running from me?" He managed finally when Sasayo was nearly fifteen feet from the wagon.

"I guess I am." He called back over his shoulder. "Don't let me catch you around here again." He may have been shaken, but at the very least, he would have the man power when Anayo came back. He was sure of it.

xXx

Kajiim was shivering violently when they made it through the door. Sasayo felt like a complete coward and was in a foul mood as he threw wood into their fireplace. "Can you light it?"

Kajiim nodded, dripping wet and lips turning blue. She was far from cut out to be running around in the storm. Her warm nature meaning that cold weather was bad for her health even if her body heat kept it from doing her in immediately.  
Her teeth were chattering as she desperately tried to light the kindling. Her hands were too unsteady.

Coming back from his study with his blanket, he threw it over her soaked form. "Here," He said, with a little more heat then he intended, before lighting it with a couple of flint stones. He impatiently blew on it as it took its sweet time to catch much of anything aflame. Then the kettle began its high-pitched whistle and he disappeared into the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with hot tea and a bowl of sugar cubes, setting it before her.

In even his foul mood, he kept an eye on Kajiim.

Her shivering was less now, and he was less concerned than he had been. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close. His body was only damp.  
He was born for the weather and his heat was, as Kajiim once complemented, very furnace-like.

"Your blanket," Kajiim said, frowning at the now drenched piece of fabric, the warm tea in her hands bringing color and life back to her skin.

"I don't need it." And even if he did, he didn't care. He had worked hard to win this woman over and he would die before he let her go. He tried a subtle glance but had to double take when he saw the way she was looking up at him through her lashes. He shivered when his eyes met hers and the affection in them became nearly tangible. A tender kiss became two. Two became four. Then he was lost in her scent and affections.

The War Bells in the distance woke him from the deepest sleep he'd had in months. Kajiim stirred but didn't seem quite awake.

He rolled out of bed and onto his feet. Anger twisted in his gut at the knowledge that Anayo was, in fact, not going to take his warning seriously - perhaps even called his bluff. This was unlike Anayo, a stupid move for a usually intelligent man.

It was still raining outside, which meant he should probably take someone other than Kajiim.  
After pulling on his clothes and hanging his Deer Horn Knives on his belt, he gave one last glance to Kajiim and debated on his actions.  
Should he just go ahead and take her? Even in the rain? Should he even say goodbye? There was a good chance that if he woke her, she would insist on going with him. Should he leave her a note? What would he even say?

No, He decided. He would just leave. If he died, the night before was enough of a goodbye for the both of them and she would know that.  
Racing to the area that would be visible to the people in the tower the War Bells were housed in, he was joined by two others, already drenched by the rain.

"Who is it?" Asked the first. A woman by the name of Shiseken.

"And how many?" Asked the second. Another woman whose name was Kiren.

Hell, most of the people of his Clan were women. Capable women who had been just fine before joining. But he really had preferred the company of men. At least then, he never had to guess and read between the lines. Like, he had learned that when women said, " _Everything is fine_ ", it meant nothing was fine and you better not drink the tea because she had poisoned it due to something you did earlier that week.

"Anayo, I believe. I don't know how many." He wished he did though. He had a bad feeling this whole thing was going to end quite ugly.

Another joined, Asheer. She was not adjusted to the cold like they were and it worried him that she may be a liability. But he wouldn't dare tell her that.

Another ten yards and he stood face to face with Anayo. Who was dripping wet like himself and appeared completely at ease with it. 

"Last chance," Called Sasayo.

Anayo gave a roll of his shoulders and a snide smirk. "Come on, now. Four of you? Really?"

The others would join shortly or were waiting patiently to strike. He hoped that Kajiim was still warm under the covers, sleeping through this entire mess.

Pulling his weapons from their place on his belt with a fluid grace that could only ever come with practice, he waited.  
The others drew their weapons behind him, backing him up.

With a laugh, Anayo fell upon him as fierce as he'd ever been. His sword clashed against the blade in Sasayo's hand. "You always did pick the stupidest of battle gear."

Sasayo resisted the thoughts of deja vu and the memories that accompanied them. That was years ago. This was now.

A sharp diagonal swing for his throat had him jumping back, feinting and darting in for his own attack. Anayo stepped back, out of the way of the blade in Sasayo's right hand, parried the blade of his left. Anayo's feet slid for a split second in the mud and Sasayo, meeting his eyes, knew the older man wasn't used to fighting in wet weather. Knew his footing wasn't as good.

Anayo's men were being picked off from the tree line, they may have been at half strength but they were still flexible. Sasayo felt pride at this knowledge.  
He feinted again to the right, darted to the left and went in for what he hoped would be a killing blow.  
Anayo twisted at just the right moment and used Sasayo's momentum to throw him into the mud.

Kajiim was going to kill him if she had to wash another dirt stain out of his clothes this week.

He rolled in time to avoid Anayo's blade. With concentrated force, the bottom of Sasayo's foot connected with the Anayo's shin and the man literally fell on top of him. What he hadn't counted on was Anayo headbutting him on the way down.

Trying to fight past the stunning blow and the stars in his vision, he swiped his right hand up but Anayo threw himself back only a moment too late. Red bloomed where Anayo had been cut along his collarbone. But his sword was back in his hand.

And he was livid.

He waited for Sasayo to stand before attacking, raining strike after strike on Sasayo and giving him no opportunity to do anything but block, sparks shooting off the ringing metal.

A familiar scream sounded near him and he had to force down the gut reaction of going to defend. The distraction was all Anayo needed, Sasayo had moved back but he couldn't avoid the slash across his chest. He was thankful when he realized it wasn't too deep.

By now, Anayo's men had been whittled down and Sasayo had only lost a few women.  
Going in once more for the kill gained him nothing but a pommel to his left temple.  
When he was aware of himself a few minutes later, he was beaten and bloody.

But he was alive for some insane reason.

And he was fine with that. Really. Because it meant that he still had the chance to make Anayo pay. For his suffering. For the death of his brother. For the suffering of everyone else.  
Yes, one day, Anayo would pay.

He felt guilty when he was hefted to his feet. "What happened?"

Asheer frowned. "He beat the," She seemed to realize how impolite it was to swear in his presence, "He did you in. And when we swarmed him, he left like a coward."

He wouldn't point out that swarming him was not exactly brave either. But you didn't expect only one hornet to come out to sting you when the nest was disturbed.

Mourning their dead would be done in the afternoon. He really didn't think he could do it with the little amount of sleep that he had. It wasn't that he didn't care. It was that he was worn and feeling slightly humiliated that it had been so easy to take him down. That Anayo had been playing with him until he'd landed a hit.

Some moved to the area in which their dead would be prepared for burial, some went back to their homes. Kajiim greeted them halfway to the house he shared with her and slipped under his arm, allowing Asheer to go about whatever it was she was planning to do. She was nearly as bloody as he. The closer they got to the house, the more stiff his joints felt.

The removal of his clothes was much more difficult than it had been last night. But lowering him into the tub was a little easier. Kajiim's hands cleaned his wounds and stitched the slash across his chest, below his collarbone.

She said nothing as she pulled up a stool, sitting behind him, then lathering the soap into his hair, working the debris out. He almost was afraid to be this intimate with her, knowing she would be furious that he left her behind.

The rain had stopped by the time he was clean and dressed. He had a few hours yet before he needed to pay his respects to their Fallen and he really needed sleep.

Flopping onto the soft bedding, he stared at the ceiling. Kajiim pulled the curtains and they plunged into utter darkness. The blankets on one side of him pulling slightly tighter being the only indication she was there. He lifted his arm and she slipped underneath it, still silent.

"I could smother you in your sleep," She whispered after awhile, arms wrapping around his waist.

"You could," He said. But she wouldn't. She was mad and felt guilty for not being there. But there was nothing they could do.

"You're washing your own clothes," She said after a long, thoughtful pause. "Because if I have to wash them again this week, you're eating them."

He could live with that. And while he wouldn't be happy later, he was going to let himself be happy now. Happy that he had lived. Happy that Kajiim was pressed against him, even if she was as angry as a wet cat. Happy that they would survive another skirmish just fine.  
Sleep overtook him in a way that was unexpectedly easy.


	3. In The Bright Afternoon Sun

Renjin looked Sorajin over. He was dressed in his light gear that she had commissioned specifically for him as soon as he'd been settled in her home. "We'll need to have new armor for you soon," She said. "You've grown."

But not a lot. From his estimation, he'd only grown a few inches over the last year. Apparently, Renjin was already concerned about it. "Not now, though. Right?" He hadn't come to show her how glorious he looked in his battle gear. Even though, admittedly, it was better than the stuff he had back in his village.

Renjin tilted her head to the left, eyebrow drawing up. "You want to go with them?"

He'd missed it last time, the trip Renjin's lover and All-Purpose-Right-Hand took twice a year. Renjin had insisted he stay so she could finish the section of training they were on because his previous training was "pathetic." Her words, not his. But now, at twelve, he was feeling stir crazy and like there was way more of this world to explore than he had been allowed to.

Renjin gave him a reluctant look. Like she really wanted to say no and it might kill her to say yes. "Don't let Takka baby you too much." Takka was the Right-Hand. She always pampered and treated him like her own kid. She was probably in her forties and had no kids of her own. "And mind Sanchu because he has permission to beat the daylights out of you." But he wouldn't even if he was mad.

Sorajin beamed. Mindful of his manners, he thanked Renjin profusely before running out of her chambers.

"That child is going to be the end of me," She muttered to the empty air.

xXx 

Sanchu and Takka were waiting patiently at the gates. When Sorajin came close enough to speak to them without yelling, Sanchu raised his brows expectantly.

"She said I can go."

Sanchu smiled and nodded, looking almost as pleased as Sorajin felt. Takka gave a shrug and turned, beginning their route.

Mindful not to talk too much or chatter mindlessly, he carried on a conversation with Takka, walking between she and Sanchu, who was mute. So conversation with him was a lot harder and took too much of his attention away from his vigilance. They carried on for two of the three day's journey, stopping when Sanchu became tired. Because Takka had more stamina than them and Sorajin was younger and thus had more energy.

In the early afternoon, they came upon a stream that, further down, opened up into a river. Takka settled under a willow tree and gestured Sanchu up one of the sturdier trees before handing canteens to Sorajin. "Fill 'em up, please."

Sorajin obediently went to find the best place to get water. Crouching beside a big rock, he noticed a few fishing poles on the other side of the stream, up a ways. Maybe that's why Sanchu was on look out duty and Takka was keeping an eye on him. Had they spotted the signs that they weren't the only ones at the stream?

He'd filled up his canteen when a pair of boys came splashing down the river to him, scaring minnows and frogs his way. Fall was starting to make an appearance but the days were still warm. He capped his canteen and a shadow fell over him. A glance up put him face to face with an older boy. His eyes were ice blue, like Takka's, but a little darker around the pupil. His hair was red but his skin was dark, probably from the sun. So logically speaking, he probably dyed his hair. Because his complexion was all wrong. He did have freckles, though.

Sorajin didn't see anything wrong with hair coloring. Most of the Not-people he'd encountered had red hair and even though Renjin had said it was just his luck of the draw, somehow he doubted that. The boy's trousers were rolled up past his knees, suspenders clinging to bare shoulders.

A blond boy stood behind him, trousers also rolled up with a soaked-through white button up shirt. "What's a wimpy little human doing out here?" He asked.

"That's _Prince_ to you, kid." Sorajin said. Renjin had told him not to let others talk down to him. He was her heir - whatever that meant - and he would act, speak, and be treated as such.

The blond laughed. "Kid? You're obviously the youngest out of the three of us."

Frowning, Sorajin stood. "And just how old are you? Eight?" He didn't look like he could be older than ten.

"Thirteen," Said the blond. He smiled at the look Sorajin couldn't cover in time.

"What about you?" Sorajin turned to the red-haired boy.

"Fourteen."

He really was the youngest here. Damn it.

Misinterpreting the expressions that passed over Sorajin's face, the oldest boy shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Sech is a runt and everyone thinks he's about that age."

Sech scowled.

"'Specially with his minko legs." 

"I don't have minko legs." Sech punched the older boy in the arm. "I'm svelte!"

"Skinny," Said the older boy with a toss of his head. The blond stormed off, kicking and splashing his way back up to the fishing poles.

"You'll scare the fish," The red-head called after him.

"I'd worry if it weren't for the fact that your face scared them before I did."

Already having seen enough to know these two were troublesome, Sorajin decided it was best if he left. He turned to go, but the older boy grabbed his wrist. "Don't be rude. Stay." The smile the boy gave him was slightly unnerving. "At least til, Sech cools down. It won't take long."

But Sorajin shook his head. "I should go. We have somewhere we need to be." The grip on his arm wasn't painful, but it would be hard to break at this angle. "I should be going."

His tone took an authoritative turn, something glittering in his eyes. "Stay, Young Prince." The tone had a mocking edge that made Sorajin come within a breadth of spitting in the bigger boy's face. But he reeled it in, knowing he would be ashamed to say he did something disrespectful in response to disrespect. Both Renjin and Sanchu would frown upon that. He sighed. A pleased look took over the others boy's handsome features. It was maddening but Sorajin swallowed it down.

Because this boy was probably a Prince, too "Chikotsu," He said. At the funny look Sorajin gave him, he said, "It's my name."

"Sorajin."

The boy's expression demonstrated that he thought it was a stupid name, too. "I've never heard of you." A glance to the willow tree and the sturdy oak said he knew the other two.

"I'm new. Where are you from?"

Chikotsu looked at him strangely for a moment. "That direction." He pointed behind him, to what Sorajin guessed was Southeast. "We're called The Pride, if you didn't know." Ah, Renjin had mentioned them.

But that didn't mean she said _good_ things. She frequently referred to them as "The Harem Clan" because, she said, it was full of women. There were only two men she knew of that had reached full maturity.

"I thought you were a girl," Chikotsu said. The light way he said it gave the impression he wanted a reaction. He wasn't going to get one. "You're an awfully pretty boy."

Renjin had wanted to cut his hair before he left but other members of the Clan were in sudden need of attention. And Takka was afraid she would butcher his hair if she tried.

So yeah, his hair was longer than he liked it. But Renjin said she wasn't comfortable with him trying to cut it himself. Which translated to, "you can if you have to but I'd rather that you didn't."

A hand on his shoulder brought him back from his reverie. "Want to learn something new?" His smile was too toothy. Too friendly.

A hand gripped his jaw from behind, turning his face closer to Chikotsu. For such small hands, the blond was packing some power. The grip was hard enough to be a warning. Soft enough he wouldn't bruise.

Chikotsu was now close enough that Sorajin could see the deep blue design in his eyes, around his slitted pupil. Something twisted in his gut. His first real kiss went to a boy he barely knew.  
He struggled but the blond gripped him like a vice. Fear began to bloom in his chest. This was bad. This was very bad.

The sound of a whip hitting the large rock beside them had both boys moving back. Sanchu stood with atop the boulder with a stern face and a willow switch in his hand. That would burn like no other if he hit them with it, having been hit with one himself when he was a kid, Sorajin was well acquainted with that brand of pain.

Sanchu bounced the switch lightly in his hand, before gesturing that they back off. The boys moved four paces before turning and watching curiously.

With a gesture towards Sorajin, the boy skittered off to where Takka was waiting, Sanchu behind him.

"Thank you," Sorajin said, rubbing the back of his neck with a small amount of shame. Sanchu shrugged, unconcerned.

He glanced back to the two boys, still watching him with curious, mischievous expressions. It seemed they knew, just as he did on some instinctual level, that this would not be the last time he met them.

"Watch the little one," Said Takka. "He seems like he's harmless but he's the more vicious of the two." The grip the boy had on him earlier was testament to that.

Sorajin took a moment to memorize their faces as they stood in the bright afternoon sun.

When they were out of sight, Sorajin felt like he could finally relax, a hand on his shoulder steadied him. A promise from Sanchu that the older man would have his back.


	4. When You Were Sixteen

Sometimes, when it's quiet, he feels like screaming. He isn't really sure when he started feeling that way.

Anju always looks at him like he might be crazy. But she never says anything. Never asks what goes on in his head.

Because she seems to think she might be crazy, too.

But Kira never does. Always assured and knowing of herself.

She leans against the counter, arms stacked, one over the other, top hand against the upper arm of the arm underneath, watching his children and her own plot and giggle. He wonders what goes on in his sister's head.

"I've been thinking about doing some traveling," She says after a while. "I'm a little strung out since Luca left."

Her ex-husband had left over something inconsequential. For some reason, it meant the entire world to him. He never insisted on taking either of their children.

He just left.

Haunku thinks that he could never leave his family that way. That what Luca did was brutal and wrong.

But he has done things that were twice as brutal and thrice as wrong as Luca. So he had no right to speak to his Brother-in-law over it.

But damn if he didn't want to.

"Is that okay?" Asks Kira, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Are you leaving Orro?" Her adopted son. He could keep an eye on the boy. He was old enough to care for himself, really. But Haunku knew he would need some one around just in case. Her eyes slide back to him, expression unsure.

She was thinking about leaving them both.

Keteer, he could house - take in, even. But he wouldn't be able to house Orro. Not because he didn't have the space, but because he really didn't trust that boy due to the company he kept.

You were your company after all.

He can hear the ticking of the clock in the sitting room. Anju is soon to be back from her shopping trip.

"You wouldn't keep him."

"He'll bring Itan over," Says Haunku. The boy's best friend is handsome and sly, being the oldest son of the leader of a Clan co-inhabiting with Haunku's doesn't hurt either. He has his own harem at this point and while Haunku can respect it, he's profoundly bothered by it. And he doesn't want the young man around his daughter, nor Kira's daughter.

"Itan is harmless," Says Kira.

But that's what Haunku said to his friends about Anayo before he murdered them in cold blood. That's what he said about his own father before he had to protect Kira from him.

"He isn't," Says Haunku. "I don't like him."

Kira isn't sure how to respond. She wants to argue but can't seem to find a valid point to work with. Haunku knows his sister's moods well. But the fact that he's the leader of their Clan, means she won't disobey blatantly. It could start an uprising and she knows that.

"What do you want me to do with my son then?"

Haunku pauses. There are few havens for men Orro's age these days. There were more when he himself was that young. He was never really all that happy there, though. Haunku thinks about caving for a moment. Thinks about Itan. And then thinks about the ways he had made it this far. "Send him out."

Kira nearly spits her tea across the room. " _Send him out?_ " Her question is really an accusation.

"I was on the run when I was younger than him and did just fine."

"But he isn't you."

"And no one is hunting him," Says Haunku. "He'll be safe and he'll be free. Two things nobody from before his generation has had until a few years ago."

"We still don't have it," She says. "And we won't until-"

"I know," Says Haunku. "But he himself, no one knows about. No one will know about. I can't keep him because he's male and therefore, should be thrown out by now because he's unrelated and sexually mature. Probably active, even."

Kira stares at him. "Are you pretending to be the Game Keeper?"

"Pretending?"

"Once you're a poacher, it is wrong to think you could ever be anything else," Says Kira.

"Things have changed," Haunku says, Kira is pushing the buttons labeled ' _Guilt_ ' and he hates it. He will admit to having been young and stupid. But he wasn't going to admit to it more than once today.

"But we don't," Says Kira. "You and I, we're still the same."

"Kira," Haunku tries to set his cup of tea on the counter gently, "The times have changed us. Changed me. And they have changed you." _In a good way_ , he thinks. It's made her less aggressive. Softer. The woman Haunku has always wanted her to be.

But her son will grow colder the more time he spends with his friend. Haunku doesn't know why the boy is the way he is.

But he has his ideas.

And if he's right, this thing incubating will spread. Orro will catch it - All of their friends will.

Then it will incubate inside of their families. And their siblings will catch it. And it will be spread to the next generation of innocent children.

He feels like screaming again.

Kira looks at him funny. "You're wrong," She says. "You're still the same. The only thing that changed you was that night when you were sixteen."

He wishes people would bury that instead of unearthing it like they seemed to never stop doing. There were a few people who had been in his shoes, who just wanted to know.

But there were more than a few that wanted to drag it out of him. Or commiserate with him.

He didn't want to be miserable over it. He wanted to have amnesia. He wanted everyone who knew to just up and die. It was wrong and unfair but it felt something like having flesh torn off of his bones when he got those knowing glances.

Not as though they knew by looking at him, because they'd seen the likes of him before.  
But like some one had told them intimate details about his life and - His thoughts are interrupted by shattering glass. His cup is on the floor. He bites back a curse and turns for napkins.

There’s a puddle of tea on the counter where he cracked his cup from setting it down too hard earlier.

Damn it!

"I'll think about it," He says. But he really has no intention of letting Orro stay. He would die for the boy. But that didn't mean he would let his daughter get hurt because of him. He has to draw the line somewhere. Family or not.

"I wish you would stop being so afraid," Kira says, leaving him alone in the kitchen. She slams the front door on her way out.

He wishes he could stop being afraid, too.


	5. Lessons

He flinched and let out a hiss through clenched teeth when the light came on.

But it wasn't the light that elicited the reaction.

It was the reflection in the mirror. The black eye and split lip meant little compared to the hickeys and marks on his neck. The rest of him held bruises, bite marks or rope burns.

Rage began a slow burn in his stomach, surging up between his ribs. He clamped his teeth shut so it would stay locked between his tender, swollen, lips.

He felt disgraced. Dirty. And didn't like the man he saw in the mirror.

His father would look at him only once and his lips would thin and his eyes would know.

His father would think he was weak.

His mother would think his girlfriend was too rough and wheedle him for the name of the assumed girlfriend.

His brother would admire his bruises and cuts and ask if he won the brawl.

He didn't know if he should say yes and be adored or say no and watch in amusement as his brother would jump to his defense and pledge to avenge him. Oh, how he loved his family.

xXx

Kenjin had invited him to dinner with his twin children. Anayo and Anaya. Their name similarity was irksome for Chiikets. But perhaps it had to do with the fact that they looked and behaved alike.

Anayo had yet to meet his eye though, anxious over something. His sister was friendly and oblivious to the tension.

"How is your father?" Kenjin asked. He was probably just being polite. Chiikets' father was a high-ranking Lieutenant, after all. He had probably seen the man recently.

"Good," Said Chiikets just as polite.

"And your mother?" Kenjin inquired again before the younger man could ask about his family.

"Busy with so many things to keep up with, but she's happy."

"And your brother?"

Chiikets felt pride swell within his chest. His heart took wings. "He's taking to his advanced schooling like a fish to water. We thought it would be hard for him with his dyslexia," Kenjin knew about that. His father had fretted over it constantly, unsure what it meant for the boy, "But he seems not to have it at all."

Kenjin smiled and nodded. "You should introduce me to him."

Chiikets' heart crashed into his stomach, stirring the organ into a mess, then dropping into the floor.

No. Oh no. What had he done?

Anayo still wouldn't look him in the eye. Anayo knew. There were only two reasons for that, but he didn't want to think about either one.

Anaya wasn't afraid of eye contact, demonstrating that she must have no idea of it whatsoever.

"He's awfully shy. Quite unlikable, really," Said Chiikets. "He'll probably just infuriate you." He was lying. And Anayo knew that, too. Chiikets had no idea how he knew - Only that he did.

"I'll be the judge of that," Said Kenjin.

Chiikets' hair stood on end. "Sir," He hoped his voice was steady, "I am uncomfortable with this."

"Are you defying me, Chiikets?" His eyebrows drew together and up. He might have been playing at hurt, but the younger man could see the promise of pain in his future.

He swallowed the only spit he could find in his dry mouth, stalling as long as he could. "Yes, Sir."

Kenjin's eyes darkened further with anger but the rest of him only emanated hurt. His tone became authoritative. "I've taught you better than that."

Chiikets tilted his chin up and pulled his shoulders back, looking Kenjin in the eye. "I know, Sir." He could pay for this later.

And the look Kenjin took told him he certainly would. There was a chill in his bones, but he refused to give in. It was too late to be scared now anyway.

His brother would never hurt like he did.

Ever.

He would never allow it.

"Then you'll have to be taught again," Says Kenjin.

xXx

For four months, Kenjin attempted to reeducate Chiikets. He allowed it but never gave into introducing his brother.

That gave Kenjin power over everyone.

Mainly himself and Shen.

The longer it went on, the more haggard his father looked and more worried his mother got. Anayo started bringing dinner to his barracks the nights he worked, apologizing for his father's actions.

"He's hurting you, too, isn't he?" Chiikets asked one night when he knew they were alone.

"He doesn't mean it," Said Anayo.

"Does he say that or does he do something that makes you think that?"

Anayo didn't respond, utensil pressed against his bottom lip.

Chiikets gave his meal a rough stab. "He's playing you."

"He might be," Said Anayo. "But he's still my dad."

It was Chiikets' turn to fall silent.

xXx

Five months into the reeducation, Anayo started spending the night with him. And he had his ideas about why that would be, but he didn't want to press his friend - _Oh gods, his friend! He was friends with the son of the man he hated!_

 _Maybe I should kill Anayo in his sleep_ , He thought, sitting up slowly. They'd left the window open because it was hot as hell, so the curtains in Chiikets' room in barracks fluttered in the sweet breeze. The moon illuminated the red hair in a way that made it appear as blood.

 _Maybe Anayo is a spy._ He carefully picked up his pillow and slid out of his pallet of blankets on the floor. His family may have come from less than a perfect background, but he was still raised with manners. Which meant his guest got the bed.

 _Maybe he will use all of this against me one day._ Careful not to wake Anayo, he stood over the bed, preparing himself for what he was about to do. Trying to decide what he would do afterwards.

 _But is it possible he won't?_ He let the pillow hang in his left hand, by his side.

Maybe Anayo was hurting just like he was.

The young man rolled over half way and looked up at him, eyes cracked open. "What's up?"

His instincts screamed at him to do it now. To finish this and bury Anayo in the back of his Aunt's lawn. No one would ever find him there. No one would know. And that would be one more threat to his family out of his life.

He was bigger, even if just slightly. He could overpower the other red-head.

He could do it, he could. If he could do it fast enough, he might not even have very many bruises.

Too late. Anayo became fully awake, wary. "Chiikets? Are you okay?"

That same voice became a whisper in the back of his head. He could still do it. "Yes," He said, pushing it aside. "I just heard something and was wondering if you heard it, too. But you were sleeping, so I guess not." He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "Sorry."

If Anayo saw the pillow in his hand, he never said anything about it.

xXx

Six months in and he was exhausted. Anayo stuck to him like a brother. Someone he could tell anything. And Kenjin never gave any indication that he knew the things Chiikets had said. His family was used to the boy coming in and going out.

Chiikets regretted ever wanting to kill him. He mused over it as he juggled the bags in his hands, trying to get the door open.

"Mom, I'm home!" He called into the quiet house as he moved towards the kitchen. She had sent him on an errand because she wasn't feeling well. He had, of course offered because his father was busy.

Through the sitting room and down the hall with the wooden flooring Shen always maddeningly scuffed up, he slipped in something and fell.

The groceries went everywhere.

He swore as he moved to gather them up. But he froze when he realized the puddle he'd slipped in wasn't water.

Forgetting the groceries, he clambered to his feet and ran to the kitchen. "Mom! Mom are you okay?"

There was sobbing when he was close enough to hear it. He stood, swaying in the doorway, unable to fathom the sight.

Anayo sat on the floor, holding Shen against him and sobbing. His brother was pale and looked scared out of his wits but fine otherwise.

His mother lay on the tile near Anayo, hair splayed out like ink spilt onto paper. His father was leaned against their overturned table, silent and unmoving.

Chiikets dropped to his knees. "What happened?" His voice crackled.

Anayo let Chiikets’ little brother free of his arms. He ran and clung to Chiikets, shaking like a leaf in a storm. He stroked Shen's hair, wanting to say that everything would be alright but feeling like nothing would ever be again.

" _Anayo,_ " He said. " _What happened?_ "

"They were like this when I got here. I," Anayo looked lost, "I don't know."

xXx

Anayo begged his father to let them stay until Chiikets could figure out what he was going to do. Kenjin gave him only a few days.

Chiikets was alright with that, though. He didn't want to be around Kenjin anymore than he had to be. He sent Shen to their Aunt on the edges of Kenjin's territory. She loathed everyone, but tolerated her Blood-kin.

He prepared himself for being under Kenjin's rule - something he had never wanted, but his father expected because he knew Chiikets would be well off.

Kenjin set Chiikets up with three different jobs, ensuring he could pay for his family's burial. His Aunt offered but Chiikets couldn't allow it because she was a widow and barely making ends meet as it was. And he'd already burdened her with Shen. No, he could only do it himself. And he may not sleep or eat well for awhile but it would be worth it. He's grateful his parents had paid the house off when he was a kid. 

Weeks went by and Chiikets worked his hands to the bone alongside another boy named Haunku. He didn't like this other guy very much but they both had debts they had to pay and dead parents they had to bury. Plus kid siblings that depended on them to get this shit done.

He hadn't had the gall to ask, but the whispers around Anayo's place were that Haunku killed his father. Nobody knew what the circumstances were, but it was enough to wonder if he did it in cold blood or something like that. Haunku was a brunette. Probably of Xii descent. Which made him unlikable from the start. He was also a little bossy and had the muscle to back it up. Chiikets grudgingly respected that.

Anayo began practically living at Chiikets' house again. And Kenjin had offered to pay some of Chiikets' debt but only if he allowed Haunku and his sister to stay there until Haunku could pay off his own debt.

He hated it but he owed Kenjin.

He owed him a lot.

Thankfully, Haunku stayed out of his way, did laundry and kept his kid sister from under foot. Shen probably would have liked her. And he and Haunku could bond by screaming either at each other or about the situations they were in.

Because they were close like that. It also relieved tension between them.

It's a horrible existence but Chiikets tries to find pleasure in the small things. Like throwing cold water on Haunku in the morning because he wanted the man to stop flushing the toilet repeatedly while he was in the shower.

They were both the pettiest in in history, but Chiikets could never be sure who was pettier. He also had to laugh. If he didn't, he'd sit down and cry and never get up again.

Haunku gave him a strange look from the kitchen. "Are you sane over there? Cackling randomly is a really bad sign."

"Shut up and come sit with me," Said Chiikets.

Haunku shrugged, a roll of his shoulders, and went back to the kitchen. Chiikets still hated it in there. He couldn't stand in that room anymore. So Haunku never asked him to. He came back and handed Chiikets a plate like he always did and sat beside him on the couch so they could bitch about the day they'd had. Anayo eventually joined them and wedged himself between them instead of choosing the empty spot on either side. Sometimes Chiikets wondered if Anayo was jealous of how close he and Haunku had gotten.

Chiikets also wondered if Anayo was jealous of himself or Haunku.

Three months in, Anayo pretty much moved in and started sleeping on the couch. Some days he shared a bed with either of the real tenants but he complained that they were always too cranky.

"I work," Said Haunku one morning, cup of coffee in between his large hands. "And it's disconcerting when you roll over and someone, who wasn't there last night, is laying there two inches from your face." Anayo opened his mouth to argue but Haunku beat him to it. "Sleeping or not."

After that, Haunku started kicking Anayo out of his bed unless Anayo asked permission.

"Prince or not," Said Haunku on a day Anayo wasn't home, "if he keeps this up, I'm gonna kill him."

Chiikets shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time you killed somebody."

Haunku's expression was scathing. "Because you totally know every detail of what happened."

"You did though, didn't you?"

"Screw you, Chiikets." And with that, Haunku left.

He didn't come back that night.

But Anayo did. And he chatted amiably until Chiikets was exhausted. Anayo followed him to bed and laid down beside him, still nattering like Chiikets wasn't trying to sleep.

"Look," Chiikets interrupted Anayo mid sentence, "Haunku will be back tomorrow. There's no reason to freak out." Anayo gave him a funny look. "And I know that's why you're not shutting up. But you can't worry about somebody as stupid as him. He'll be fine."

Anayo was quiet at least long enough for Chiikets to be taken by sweet sleep.

When Chiikets woke, it was still dark outside. Anayo was straddling his hips.

"What are you doing?" Asked Chiikets, moving to push Anayo off and finding his hands tied to the bed frame.

"I have a confession to make," Said Anayo. "I'm the reason your family is dead. But I spared your brother." He smiled.

Chiikets scowled. "Stop fucking around. That's not funny."

Anayo held his gaze for a long time. Even though it was nearly as dark as pitch in the room. "I'm not laughing."

When Haunku found him in the morning, they both just took each other in. The silence deafened Chiikets. Because something had happened to the other man, too.

"We're leaving then?" Haunku said simply. Like they were just going for a walk. Like they weren't about to commit treason.

"Let's go."

They gathered up family heirlooms and photos, anything they found as keepsakes before setting the house a flame.

Chiikets went to his Aunt's house to get his brother.

"Don't tell me where you're going or what you're doing," She said to him when she saw that he had packed things up. "I always knew the day would come when our blood would go against the law." She let him inside. "I just always thought it would be your menace of a father." The family of Chiikets' mother hated his father for some reason they had refused to discuss. His Aunt had only stayed near so that she could help her sister out of the marriage when it turned sour.

When, not if.

He thanked her as much as he could before she ushered him out the back with camouflaged cloaks.

"Take care of your brother," His Aunt said. "Don't let him die even if you do. He's the only piece I have left of your mother."

He stifled the sting of those words. He knew he looked like their father while Shen more resembled their mother. Of course their Aunt would have a preference.

"Where are we going?" Shen asked as Chiikets tugged him along by the hand. Chiikets didn't know where they were going. But they weren't going to stay there anymore.

Haunku met him by the Southern wall as instructed. They had both planned to leave from this wall, having intimate knowledge of the village.

Haunku slid through the hole, the children following, Chiikets after. Kira, Haunku's little sister, tried to run back through the wall before being grabbed by Chiikets, who gently pulled her away. It was a fight to get her moving through the woods.

They didn't stop until afternoon the next day, the children unable to continue and both men exhausted.

"I'll keep watch," Said Haunku. "Sleep."

So Chiikets did. The kids curled up against him.

When he woke, there was no sign of the other man. "Where's your brother?" He asked Kira. The little girl began to sob and shook her head. "Okay," He said. "Okay. Please don't cry." He carefully sat up and called out for Haunku. There was no reply. When he stood, the little girl clung to his leg and started to cry harder.

Supremely at a loss and anxious, having never had to deal with a little girl before, he tracked Haunku as far as he could before the trail went cold.

Feeling angry, betrayed, and abandoned, he called out for the other man again. His voice echoed into the forest.

At least he was well rested, he supposed.

"What an ass," Said Shen.

Before he could reprimand his brother, Kira was on him, batting at him with malice but no real intent. "How dare you talk about my brother that way!" He tried to weakly fend her off, looking to Chiikets for help. "Don't ever say that again! And when he comes back you're gonna tell him you're sorry!"

This was a lesson Shen would do well to remember.

And all of it was a lesson Chiikets knew he would do well to remember, too.


	6. A Debt Unpaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjin's teen years are just as easy as everyone else's.  
> Rozolyn receives an unexpected visitor.  
> Xerxes' taste in women could probably be better.

It'd been a year. A full year since her happiness was stolen once again.

She knelt in front of the little alter she'd made and lit the incense sticks with a snap of her fingers. She sent up a little prayer for Jezreel, unsure and uncaring of just who (or what) she was praying to.

She had never been religious. But he was. So she decided she would do this for his birthday and the anniversary of his death. Her breath hitched as blood soaked memories began to play again, the feel of his chilled hand against her cheek coming back as if she were still in that moment. She gagged on bile and a mournful cry trying to shoot out of her throat.

Neither would she allow to exit her body. She was low on supplies and it would be stupid to throw up her breakfast. Forcing herself to calm down, she leaned her forehead against the shrine and breathed deeply, savoring the sweet incense she had spent her last two weeks of quint on.

Jezreel probably would call that irresponsible. But dying and leaving a drug addict with a fifteen year old wasn't responsible either.

Gods, when did she start blaming him for everything? It wasn't like he could defend himself. And he had died protecting both Renjin and Triska, the drug addict.

Renjin sighed and leaned back on her haunches, hands bracing her position.  
She had no money now. Only a few more days of food. And a week's worth of water. She needed to figure out what she was going to do.

She could live off the land. But this meant Option One: Joining a group (Which she couldn't bear to do right now) or competing with not only lone members of her species, but groups of them. She may have been cunning and strong, but Chiikets had taught her she wasn't infallible.

Option Two was, Join a Human settlement. But Humans were such pathetic creatures. They also smelled funny. Not terrible, just funny. The irony was that in all their short comings, they were adept at knowing when someone wasn't one of them.

She wished for a bustling city like the one she spent her childhood in. If the Humans had that, she could come and go with only a few stray glances. Humans would think that she was just another Human, albeit a queer one.

But there wasn't one. And, perhaps, never would be. The poor creatures were ransacked and slaughtered if a neighboring Clan thought they were overpopulating the area. And while many Clans were small, they loved their Territories. Which was another pressing issue for Renjin. Living in a male's Territory meant she would be obligated to bear his offspring. And she really would rather die than copulate with a filthy male, handsome with good genes be damned.

Jezreel had been the only male she had trusted and allowed near her.

Living in a female's Territory meant death.

She was pretty much dead no matter what, it seemed.

Wonderful.

Something shuffled behind her and she spun, knife in hand to deflect a squat little creature. It skidded backwards and landed near the wall of the small hut.

Letting out a deep growl and lifting its head, gleaming eyes locked on to her form. It's hairless body shifted to scaly feet and it smiled in a way that made Renjin freeze in fear.

Panic seized her heart, gripped it with chill. The same things that killed Jezreel were going to get her, too.

It darted towards her on all fours, mouth ajar like a snake but full of teeth.

She rolled at the last minute, dodging the creature but barely. Its teeth snagged and tore off a piece of her shirt, voraciously swallowing the fabric. The candle and incense on Jezreel's shrine had been knocked over, setting fire to Renjin's living space.

She spent a half moment wondering if her life would always be like this before grabbing her satchel, Jezreel's gift to her for her birthday (She practically lived out of the thing just in case something like this were to happen), and running. But damn everything, it was still snowing. More of the little creatures appeared from behind the hut and the trees. Human eyes gleaming with hunger. These things were not Human. The bright side was Renjin had expected a pack of hungry mouths because they never roamed solo.

They weren't as fast as Renjin, she knew they didn't have to be. She swerved toward the lake. It was frozen over and she went to the very center before looking back.

The creatures growled and paced the bank. Watching her with hunger and a burning intensity unlike any other Renjin had encountered.

Relief loosened the tenseness in her shoulders she didn't know was there.  
She dropped her satchel and laughed. Maybe she'd live. Maybe everything would be alright after all.

Until one of the creatures stepped out onto the ice, the others following.

Renjin took a step back, ignoring the crackling sound, thinking that maybe this was what it sounded like to be so scared your mind was lost.  
The deceptively weak ice under her feet gave in and she only managed a gasp. The water was a shock but she shifted away from the newly formed hole in the ice as the stupid ones of the pack tried to grab her from the water. Unnaturally long fingers tangled in her blood colored hair and she swam hard as the hand yanked. It let go, probably having almost been pulled in with her.

She waited, fighting the desperate need for air. Finally, she had no choice but to surface.

The air was cold and Renjin wanted to cry at the realization that she was going to freeze to death.

She couldn't really be too upset, though, because the creatures were back. Splashing them with cold water and realizing this wouldn't deter them, she went under once more.

This time when she went to surface, the hole was frozen over.

Her lungs were screaming. She pounded uselessly against the ice. It was pointless. _At least I'll be with Jezreel_ , She thought as her body spasmed and her world grew dark. _That'll be okay._

xXx

She's surprised when a man with a large bundle enters her cozy hut.  
White wolves watch him, but only with curiosity.

She turns her attention back to darning socks and finishing a quilt she has been working on since the summer while he settles himself and his bundle by the fire. The bundle is wrapped in a quilt. Probably made by a Grandmother in the family line somewhere. It's quite nice.

"Xerxes," He says after a few minutes. His hair has ice crystals hanging from the ends. She wonders what he was doing. If his lips are blue. Does he have hypothermia?

"It's my name," He says.

Oh. "Rozolyn," She says. He nudges his bundle closer to the fire and cuddles against it. Rozolyn wonders why she always gets the weird house guests.

"Are you hungry?" Rozolyn can think of a few chores he can do to pay her back.

"Yes, thank you," He says, well aware he'll be in her debt. While she makes stew, he stays in the same place. Which Rozolyn is fine with. It's easier to keep an eye on him.

When she brings him a bowl full of steaming broth, he slowly peels back the quilt. Red hair sticks to the fabric but he slides a hand under the woman's neck, slowly sitting her up. Her lips are vivid blue but there's color returning to her skin.

Xerxes alternates between tipping the broth into her mouth and stroking her throat with gentleness.

"There's no point in feeding someone who won't appreciate it," Rozolyn tells him. "She's always been ungrateful."

"Well," Replies Xerxes. "Maybe one day, I'll meet her again and she can tell me how ungrateful she is that I revived her."

"You're not going to stay?" Rozolyn resumes sitting in her cushioned chair, working intently on her quilt.

"No. She will doubt that I was good to her without expecting gain."

"Renjin expects the worst in everyone," Says Rozolyn. "She probably will always think you were working some angle."

"Your sister must be a tough nut."

"My sister is stubborn. That's all there really is."

Xerxes strokes Renjin's hair for a few long moments. "If she dies," He makes eye contact with Rozolyn for the first time in an hour. His eyes are stormy grey. Rozolyn thinks they're pretty. "I will kill you."

Rozolyn pouts, not quite the reaction Xerxes was going for. "No need to get all bent out of shape." She sips what Xerxes thinks is probably tea. "Why undo what you've altrustically done?"

His lips twist. Rozolyn, as young as she is, knows he's searching her face for guile. Tokos are a conniving people after all.

They have tea while he tries to put more warmth into Renjin.  


"You know she hates men, right?" Says Rozolyn. "This whole thinking she'll thank you is probably a pipe dream."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Rozolyn's silence isn't condescending but it still irritates him. "So, if you two are sisters," He says, "why don't you travel together?"

Rozolyn laughs. "She has some serious bi-polar. She will save my life and then threaten to end it." She glances at Renjin. "I couldn't handle the insanity, she couldn't handle the guilt."

Xerxes wonders if the older sister will balance out with age.

"I guess you're a deserter, huh?" Asks Rozolyn. "You look like one."

He frowns. "Aren't we all?"

Rozolyn shakes her head. "Not all."

Xerxes takes Rozolyn's to-do list, does every request, then prepares to leave. He stops to kneel down and kiss Renjin on the forehead. Her lips are no longer blue.

"Tell her not to sell that quilt," He calls over his broad shoulder. "My great, great Grandmother made that. And my Mother will crawl out of the grave and skin me if anything happens to it."

 _He probably didn't bury his mother,_ thinks Rozolyn as she watches him duck out of her hut. He's tall as hell.

Yes, he'd probably make a suitable husband for Renjin. Rozolyn's gaze slides back to her unconscious sister.

It was a common practice for a man to either leave a woman for dead or rescue the woman and nurse her back to health just enough, and then marry her if she lived. Rozolyn thought those kinds of men to be barbaric. But she preferred Humans so her opinion on the subject mattered very little.

xXx

"You are an idiot," Says Renjin when she comes to. "You should have killed me in my sleep."

"Why?" Asks Rozolyn, knowing full well why and darning yet another pair of socks.

"Less rivalry," Says Renjin. "You need to get the strong blood out of the way so you can live another day and get stronger."

"You aren't going to kill me today," Rozolyn snips. "Besides, I made a deal with someone who would be quite angry if I did such a thing."

"That man," Says Renjin. "Where did he go??"

"He's long gone. The snow has already covered his tracks."

Renjin sinks back into the quilt. "Does he really think I'm going to believe that Good Samaritan act?"

"I see you've been reading human literature. I'm impressed." Rozolyn sorely had doubted Renjin being literate at all, let alone able to read Human scrawl. "Did you know he pulled you out of the middle of a lake? Any sane person would have left you there."

Renjin is silent for the rest of the night.

xXx

"I'm leaving," Renjin tells Rozolyn.

"Don't die." Is the only reply she receives. She's not really all that bothered by her sister's nonchalance. Maybe she should be. But Rozolyn is tired and has cleaning to do.

The snow has stopped. And Renjin is still in a dilemma. The old quilt lays heavy in her bag, though. A constant reminder of a debt unpaid. Renjin hates it.  
So she decides it's time to find Xerxes.


	7. Obedience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorajin is reluctant to carry out his instructions. Kieve is willing to be of use. And Chante is a little too vague.  
> The bright side? It gives Renjin plenty of material to use later.

"I'm not doing this."

"And I," Renjin slams a knife against the light armour across his chest hard enough to knock the breath out of him, "Am not asking."

"You can't make me do this." He accepts the knife and she turns back to her desk. He could run her through. But he won't for the same reason he knows he won't win this argument. "It's wrong."

Her head swivels towards him, eyes glowing in the low light. "What did I tell you when I gave you your second life?"

"I know-"

She spins around and towers over him, eyes narrowed. "Say it."

He would never admit to another Human, other than Sanchu maybe, that a woman scared him. In his defense, Renjin was violence embodied and he'd seen her do some pretty heinous things. "I belong to you."

"In which ways?"

"Mind, body, and soul."

"Good." Renjin turns back to her work. "Go and do as I bid."

Sorajin chews the inside of his lip. "I'm also your heir. The one you will hand off the Clan to when you die."

She nods, this is what she had told him during training many a time. He might even be expected to kill her when he was ready to lead. He may not have liked Renjin, but he really didn't want to kill her. "Shouldn't I be allowed to help make decisions?"

"Not this one. This is a lesson you must learn as early as possible." Her fingers glide along a scroll.

"Isn't there another way?"

She doesn't so much as glance at him. "Get out, Sorajin."

And with that he turns and leaves the Temple. Servants cower when they see his thunderous countenance.

A man falls in line behind him, to his right. "You couldn't convince her, huh?"

Sorajin throws the knife in his direction. The man catches it a few inches from his throat. "Easy. I'm not the one you wanna tear your little dull teeth into."

Sorajin says nothing, merely pushes past the throng of people trying to speak with him. The man stops to apologize to a few of the slighted people.

"Kieve!" Sorajin all but barks.

The man makes an apologetic gesture before catching up with the younger man. "My Lord," _Tact_ , Kieve reminds himself, _Tact_. "The people appreciate a kind response to their approach. A little goes a long way." Sorajin ignores him. It isn't as though he's usually unkind to the people. And many of the Clan have to take a beating before they have any sort of respect. Kieve sighs with glance back to the confounded people. The guards scramble to open the gates before Sorajin barks at them, too. He passes silently. Kieve gives the women apologetic glances.

"My Lord," Kieve comes closer, staying a foot away. "Aren't you taking your anger out on the wrong people?"

"They have served Renjin. They can handle a day of temper from me."

Kieve clatters his tongue piercing against his teeth. Which he knows Sorajin can hear. He also knows Sorajin is ignoring.

The trek through the woods becomes gradually more enjoyable. The sun on Kieve's skin and the sweet smell of the air and the sounds of the animals bring a pleasurable distraction from what's to come.

He clatters his barbell against his teeth again, lips parting to let the sound carry. Sorajin spares him a glance, but no more than that.

They divert down an animal trail that they had used for hunting last winter. Sorajin twirls his own knife in his leather- clad hand anxiously.

Kieve wants to touch him, lay a hand on his shoulder and tell him that everything will be fine.

But he knows that Sorajin doesn't want him to cross the barrier between them. And really doesn't want to be told that everything will be fine. Under different circumstances, Sorajin would be more than willing to ignore his status and Kieve's. But today is not a day of pleasure and closeness.

So Kieve follows in silence, keeping no less than a foot between them. Sometimes more depending on Sorajin's backward glances.

And then they come to a particularly large tree - Kieve thinks the trunk is probably as wide as his armspan from fingertip to fingertip. How long would it take to cut it down? - and the source of Sorajin's negative mood.

A man is caught in one of their traps. It winds up his left leg and sinks sharp teeth into his thigh. A wrong move will bleed him out. A wrong wire cut will amputate.

This man is a lot older than Kieve. Older than Renjin. It's a little odd for a man who knows all the tricks (And a man his age _should_ know all the tricks.) to be caught in their snare.

Sorajin stands over the man. "Chante?"

The man huffs out a laugh that blows his hair out of his face. "It has been awhile. I'm a little insulted that Renjin hasn't come to finish me personally."

"You ought'nt be," Says Kieve. "Sorajin's disposal of you will be a lot more pleasant."

"I might've been able to talk my way out of disposal if she'd come." Chante shifts carefully. Laying in the same spot and position for a day had to be uncomfortable. Sorajin hands him a water skin and helps him get into position to drink from it. Kieve is always surprised at Sorajin's empathy, regardless that he's been serving Sorajin for almost two years.

Sorajin removes Chante's weapon from his back, a ninjato. Chante unfastens the strap across his chest that holds the sheath.

"I hope this isn't an heirloom," Says Sorajin. Fastening the sheath across his own back and sliding the weapon into its place.

"That one is with my son."

Sorajin's shoulders drop. Kieve frowns. Chante's son was acquaintances with Sorajin. They'd gotten along quite well. And Kieve had thought that in a few more years, they'd have a strong bond in friendship.

But this ideal was all for naught, it seemed. Kieve knew Sorajin could kill Chante no more than he could let him live.

So, Kieve takes it upon himself.

A stumble and fall cuts the right wires, setting Chante free. The older man's fist shoots up faster than Kieve can blink, and catches Sorajin in the jaw.

"Tell Renjin to meet me in the Old Tower when the moon is at her zenith." And then he's gone. Sorajin is clutching his slowly healing, probably broken, jaw. Kieve kneels, head bowed, hands in his lap.

When Sorajin's pain has subsided enough that he can stand, he moves reluctantly to stand over Kieve. "We both know you acted where I couldn't," His fingers run through Kieve's dark purple hair. And he wishes Sorajin's hands were bare. "And I am grateful for that." Kieve presses into his hand, knows what's coming. "But Renjin will expect punishment for what I will have to tell her was disobedience." He didn't tell Kieve to stay put. But Kieve knew Renjin's orders.

A gentle tug on Kieve's hair tilts his head up, to make eye contact with his master, then back, to bare his throat.

The backhand across Kieve's face more startles than hurts. Sorajin's hand wrapped in his shirt keeps him from toppling backwards or to either side. He lets go when Kieve finds his balance.

"Hold," Says Sorajin. Kieve's hands go behind his back, his head comes forward from the tilt it'd been instructed into previously. He's thankful because last time he'd been told to stay in that position, his neck ached for two days. Sorajin's hand comes down again, the force turning his head. This time, there's pain. But he never goes past a backhand. Never punches Kieve with anything other than playfulness. He's kicked in the thigh. Hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. His shoulders are smacked hard with the flat of a blade. He wonders if the bruising will keep him from being flogged.

Sorajin's boot collides with his stomach. He doubles over but remembers to keep his hands in place. Sorajin's shin supports him, keeps him from falling face down into the dirt. Then its shifting him back onto his haunches. The reprieve is over.

There's heat when Sorajin's hand comes down. He grunts when he's knocked in the gut again but holds himself upright. The blows are painful but lack any real ferocity.

And then Sorajin is on his knees, too. Significantly shorter and smaller than Kieve. He wants to laugh because they are a strange pair.

Sorajin's gloves are off now, hands tangling in his hair. Placing butterfly kisses over the bruising on Kieve's cheekbones. Kieve waits. Because even if Sorajin has forgotten, he hasn't. And the boy - Because that's what he is, really - is baffled for a moment before realization dawns on him.

"Release."

Kieve's hands go to Sorajin's waist, drawing slow circles.

Sorajin, having been raised by humans until his eleventh winter, wants to love Kieve, but really knows he shouldn't. His mouth is so light when it brushes Kieve's, the man is barely aware of it. But he doesn't dare pursue any more than what Sorajin gives.

Besides, this is an apology. Not unvoiced desire.

xXx

Renjin takes in Kieve's bruising with some amount of pleasure. But she also knows what it means.

"I brought you out of that filthy brothel and into our home, under the hands of a good master. The least you can do is help your master accomplish his tasks." _Ungrateful_ , the tone of her voice says. "Ten lashes," She tells Sorajin before dismissing the both of them. The bruises don't get Kieve out of a flogging. But they lessen it.

xXx

Renjin watches with satisfaction as Sorajin tends to Kieve. Their relationship is a complicated one, but they're working it out. "I'm leaving," She tells Sorajin.

His hands go still. "Good luck," He tells her.

Takka is waiting down the hall, offering privacy in case Kieve is undressed. He isn't, but it's pointless to call her over for a brief exchange.

Down the hall and to the right, Sanchu waits with a few others. Sorajin should have come as well but this is an opportunity to build on the relation the two boys have.

Sorajin had been extremely reluctant to take part in any of it, as he usually was. She'd made a deal with him that Kieve would be freed when Sorajin was engaged. She hadn't liked it, but it made him cooperate. Kieve was unaware of his own fate.

Meeting Chante at the Old Tower is so nostalgic it makes her stomach turn. He isn't alone but he didn't bring the entire Pack either.

They share a look, then send their people away at the same time. Chante is bigger than she is, but he's still lacking a weapon.

"What do you want?" She asks. The screaming cicadas make her strain to hear anything outside the Tower.

He strides toward her. He doesn't run, that'll attract the attention of the group, but he moves fast enough that Renjin struggles not to perceive it as a threat when the once-leader is standing over her. "Don't trust Haunku."

Renjin stares at him. "What are you-"

"I can't say anything else about that. But whatever he does, whatever he says, don't trust him."

Renjin's eyebrows draw together. Isn't it common enough knowledge that she doesn't trust people? Apparently not. "Anything else?" If he's telling the truth, he's just committed a betrayal to his leader. And Haunku is no kinder than Renjin. But why would their Clan approach Renjin? What would they have to gain?

Chante stares out the window of the Tower. It has no glass. The shutters are worn away and decrepit. "Have you seen the bruises on Itan?"

Yes, she had. And Rozolyn insisted they were from training. Renjin sorely doubted it.

"Something needs to be done. His sister broke her wrist last week." The way he says it means he doesn't think it was an accident.

"I will," _Will what?_ Renjin thinks. What can she do to figure out if suspicions are true? "I will see what I can turn up."

"Please do so before someone dies. I've already been told that I have no business poking my nose around."

By Rozolyn's lover, Renjin is sure. She hates that slimy bastard. "Immediately," She says.

Chante shoots out the window like the force of nature he probably is. Renjin's descent down the stairs is much slower.

It gives her time to mull over the things she has to do. When asked, she gives them Chante's cryptic, useless warning and tells Sanchu that Sorajin is going to Rozolyn's Territory for a visit. It's a move that could put him in significant danger. Which will be good for him. Even after four years, he's much too soft. And she owes it to her heir to toughen him up.

And when he returned, she would send him to see his blood family. Yes, that would be a nice reimbursement indeed. The more information he could gather, the longer he would get to stay.

And just maybe, he could tell Renjin why the hell Rozolyn was always knitting.


	8. Quilts Are Easier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiikets convinces Rozolyn to assist him in a plan.

He's tall, she notices. And while she likes the way tall men look, she is attracted to short men.

She takes in his scarred, broad shoulders and wonders how hard it would be to knit him a sweater.

Quilts were easier.

If she did that, he'd surely survive the winter.

Although, by the looks of him, he'd probably survive regardless.

She wishes she could make a quilt like the one Xerxes lent Renjin.

The tall man, all lean lines and sharp angles - probably hasn't been a boy for awhile, is watching her, lips pressed together at one side by his teeth. He's probably thinking about whether or not he should kill her.

And why not? She's a Toko in his territory.

Maybe she should offer him tea. He'd probably suspect poisons or drugs.

Yes, she should make tea.

She supposes she could claim to have an upper hand on Anayo so Chiikets would let her live and she could get away....

But that would require effort and lies. And Rozolyn has no intention of applying useless effort.

Futility was a time waster.

Her wolves sit around her in silence, ears flat against their heads. Hungry but unsure of their Mistress. Jillian, the only dog sits at her feet.

"I wanted to speak with you about Nachte."

Well, that was a surprise. She stands and sets a water laden kettle over the fireplace. "He's dead. Has been for some time."

"But he knew the way into Kenjin's harbor." The shrug his shoulders rise into draws attention to the tattoo across his chest under his collarbone. It's purple and black, twisting like the barbed wire she once got caught in. "I think you do, too."

Rozolyn wonders what he's going to do with a boat. He isn't going to leave, she knows that pattern weaved on his skin has marked him. It would be cowardly to leave without killing Kenjin...

Aside from that, nearly everyone is bound to this speck of dirt by the need to get even. Except for the Humans. They are largely just afraid and unwilling to leave for some reason Rozolyn still can't fathom. She wonders where Haven is right now. She strokes Jillian's fur.

"I could probably show you." The kettle begins its squealing. Chiikets is the one to get it and pour the water onto the filter with the tea leaves in it. He adjusts his deep purple leather gloves while he waits for the tea to finish settling into the jar. Rozolyn really knows he's fidgeting. It's careful and calculated, but she has learned to see through these things.

"You should really cover your throat," He says after the silence has stretched to the point that most people would be uncomfortable.

Rozolyn is mildly aware of it. "Surely it isn't that much of a distraction to you."

His hands clench for a moment then release.

"You should go without your handcoverings some time. It's quite freeing." She pours him a cup of tea from the jar.

He momentarily closes his eyes and bows his head, a polite nod is the way these men give thanks. Verbal gratitude is a weakness.

"Anyway," Rozolyn lets out a gusty sigh. "I can get into the harbor. And I can get you in the harbor. But first, I want to know why."

xXx

Rozolyn knows something is wrong the moment she steps outside of her modest cottage and draws up her hood. Jillian whines behind her. But she made a commitment and really hates the trouble caused when she doesn't keep her end of the deal.

And Chiikets was trouble indeed.

Kira and Luca wouldn't be back until tomorrow and the day after.

A note left on the kitchen counter should be enough.

She is quick to the fields that the live stock stay in. "Kill." She tells Monavere, the biggest wolf in the Pack. He jumps to his paws and begins his rounds, faster more aggressive than before.

Rozolyn watches him go. Jillian is rapt on him as well. "You two should have puppies." She tells Jillian, the dog's ears flatten against her skull. "Okay, okay," Says the red-haired woman, turning North.

xXx

Rozolyn thinks agreeing to meet Chiikets at the abandoned laboratory is a bad idea. But it's easier than trying to negotiate. She's seen the damage he was capable of doing.

She's able to catch his scent, and two others in the breeze and faces, but not names, come to mind. Jillian whines again.

Hefting Jillian awkwardly under her arm, she begins the precarious work of climbing into the old building. Built by the Humans before Kenjin was even born. Before the Old Ones existed.

The Humans that lived on the island were either the descendants of survivors of the massacre or survivors of plane crashes and ship wrecks.

Like Haven.

The sun casts shadows around the lifeless building. Chiikets stands in the center of the room. Strange statues are lined up in rows. around him, but spaced so one could walk between some of them. She wonders why the Humans put up so many of these things.

Perhaps in worship of some primitive god?

Beside Chiikets stands a stout man with blonde hair and light blue eyes and a woman with dark blue hair and grey undertones to her skin.

"It's not nice to invite people to a private party." Says Rozolyn, unsure if this is an ambush.

The blonde steps forward. "It's only rude if the guests don't bring anything." He says. His voice is pitched higher than Chiikets'. Kajmir, his name appears in her head finally.

Chiikets' Second.

The woman, she doesn't know.

"And did you bring something?"

He smirks. "That I did."

So she shrugs. Because she's either about to be killed brutally or their scheme is going to kill someone else brutally.

Chiikets leads the way out of the laboratory. Then it's Rozolyn's turn.

Getting in will be harder with three extra people. The shade of night is a good thing. But it makes it harder for Rozolyn to find the right overgrown trail.

When they get there, Jillian moves to the very front of the fences and starts barking like mad. The guards are distracted so they can slip past in the shadows.

Chiikets nods to the woman, introduced as Kiren, and Kajmir. They begin setting boats aflame one after another in the massive shipyard. Jillian comes running and there are sounds, like something exploding over and over again. Something strikes Kiren, only a graze on her upper arm.

They race to the largest ship they can find. It takes all four of them to raise the mast and weigh the anchor.

Kajmir hands out the liquor then goes back to what he's been assigned. Chiikets and Rozolyn watch as the ship moves away from land.

He smiles. "I guess I owe you, now." All but a few ships are burning. He turns and leans his firm buttocks -Oh yes. Rozolyn has been looking. Even if he's not her type- against the bow of the ship. "It's not everyday I willingly work with a Toko." He takes a sip of the beverage in his hand. "Now Kenjin can't hit us hard from the sea." There's another one of those loud _bangs_ in the distance.

And Chiikets crumples to the deck like paper.


	9. Shaken. But Not Stirred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serene, Sorajin's mother, and Frost, Sorajin's brother, are protected by a man who claims to owe a debt.  
> And the man, Chante, is an opportunist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this didn't go the way I thought it would...

It's been two weeks since her eldest son visited her.

He told her about the way things were and who he served and his life. And while she was ashamed that he was sexually attracted to a man, she was glad to see him.

But he wasn't allowed to tell anyone he was homosexual.

Not that he had wanted to. He had insisted that he didn't like men. Just Kieve.

And that was because they had spent almost three years through thick and thin and Kieve was grateful to have been rescued from a hell hole.

And, Serene knew, being grateful changed how people viewed one another.

The young man in question barely spoke in their tongue. Quiet and polite, he was anxious to show he was worthy of approval.

"Your father would never have tolerated you being intimate with another man," She had told him.

He had smiled sadly and said, "I know."

They had told Frost, her younger son, that he was a close friend. She didn't want him thinking sex with men was acceptable. Even if this new man with her son's face did.

The needle in her hand slips, pricking her finger. She gives it a reprimanding glance and stands, stretching her legs and deciding to cook. Frost would be home with the hunting party soon.

The Full-Bloods that had claimed the territory they lived in had started making the wildlife scarce.

Which meant more time hunting and more time farming. Starvation was steadily becoming a more than likely prospect.

She could turn to her son. But she's afraid of the backlash from the ruthless, violent demoness that had caged him.

Entering the kitchen, she hears them.

The old War Bells in the distance. Terror grips her heart with the strength of a Skin-Walker.

She races out of her home just as everyone is darting to and fro, as panicked as she is, the sound of her bare feet hitting the cobblestone is drowned out by horses and other people calling for their loved ones. Men call for their troops and for families to go this way or that.

But Serene isn't going to lose another son.

"Frost!" Her voice carries over the crowds, but just barely. People give her passing glances as they rush about. " _Frost!_ "

A guard with big hands and warm eyes lightly clasps her shoulder. "Serene, you need to go up to the safe house."

Any other day, she would have listened. "My son is out there, Ether."

He removes his helmet to give her a resolute but empathetic look. "Orders are orders."

"Mom?" Frost appears out of thin air. Blue eyes gleaming with concern. "What's happening, Sir?"

"They've spotted a male from the Pride."

"It's just one?" Asks Frost. "Why are we worrying?"

Ether glances at Serene. "Because they never travel with less than three members."

"You think they'll overtake us?"

"It's possible."

The silence is deafening. Not because the news of their mortality is frightening. But because the streets are empty and something is coming.

Serene pulls her son against her breast and Ether draws his sword.

Instead of a beast, there is a man, hands in his pockets, looking only mildly interested in his surroundings.

He looks different than the hungry animals that last besieged their village. He looks human.

She still wants to kill him.

His eyes are dark and cunning, underlined by the marks under his eyes. "I come bearing a warning."

Ether doesn't move.

The man pulls a large piece of parchment from his pocket and sticks it to a door with a knife. "You have three days before your town is razed to the ground." 

Frost wriggles free of Serene. "We won't leave, you bastard! We'll kill every last one of you!"

The man-beast looks up to the rooftops, men are waiting with their bows and arrows.

His gaze turns back to Frost. "I didn't have to warn you." Then to everyone else. "They're planning to come in through that Western wall you've been slacking on."

Ether's knuckles grow white. "You're setting us up for a trap."

The Full-Blood's expression grows bored. "I don't care about you people. I'm only here to settle a debt." He points past Ether, to Serene. His knuckles are bony. "Be ready to leave if things go badly."

"Get out!" Ether takes a step forward, swipes his sword through the air.

The man is unfazed. "I could kill you right now." He appears like lightning before Ether, challenging and unafraid. "But I won't."

And then he's gone.

xXx

So Serene packs. Breathing deep the smell of her Husband's cologne for strength. Frost helps.

"You're going to believe that animal?" Asks Ether, washing the dishes after dinner.

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst," Says Serene.

Putting the last dish on the rack, Ether frowns. "Where will you go?"

"South, if we can. I've heard there are some friendly Beast-people there."

Ether looks at her for a long time before moving to stand within a foot of her. "This is a trap."

"Maybe. But we're going to die either way, right?"

His eyes search hers for a long time. And then he's pressing his lips against hers. A gentle brushing of mouths. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Her arms go around his neck. "Stay the night?"

He carefully pulls away. "After we win. I have to be with the men first thing in the morning. And that's not where I want to be my first night with you."

She's disappointed but still smiles. "Alright."

That night she dreams of a skilled tongue and large hands. The orgasm she has, wakes her and she wonders how she got out of her clothes.

In the morn, she discovers a message on her bathroom mirror: _Wait for me._

This is the second time a non-human has infiltrated her home. She cries in response to the helplessness and anger she feels.

She wishes her husband was still alive. She misses the safety and the love his embrace provided.

xXx

A few days pass without incident. People start to think this whole thing was a hoax.

Until they appear.

She's conversing with the baker when it happens.

The man from before stands outside the glass doors, waiting, her bags slung over his mile long shoulders. Frost is there, too. Scowling and ranting. He's more like Serene than he is Benevolence.

The war bells ring loud and clear, now.

When she stands before this man, he looks her up and down. And she knows it was him. He infiltrated her home. He undressed her. He-

"We should leave," His voice is thick with accent. And it becomes a race to get out before the others get to them.

There's blood everywhere when they get to the gates, men and beasts alike lay dead. The man doesn't spare more than a glance to the humans, casually steps over his own kind.

It dawns slow, but Serene realizes that there's no way he can be this apathetic towards those like him. "This isn't your Clan."

"No, in fact. It's a rival Clan. So killing them is doing us a favor."

"But we'll only diminish their numbers."

He pushes the gate open with his free hand. Serene realizes just how easy it would be for him to kill them. "It's enough for us-" His eye lashes flutter, mouth parting, eyebrows drawing together. Serene's eyes are drawn downward to a blade, gleaming with blood, jutting out of the man's middle. "How did I not see you?" He murmurs.

Ether withdraws the sword and grabs Serene by the arm. "Quickly, while he's stunned."

Serene digs her feet in. "He has Ben's things."

Ether turns then, to the scowling male. "Hand them over."

"You could say please." He doesn't even act like he's in serious pain and danger of bleeding out. He brushes past Ether when the other man just scowls, nearly knocking him over. "Make me."

Serene has no choice but to follow the man with Benevolence's things, all she has left of him other than her sons. Other than Frost, who follows his mother.

Ether stands torn between the village and following them.

Serene glances back until she can't see him through the brush anymore.

"Where are we going?" Frost isn't asking, he's demanding.

The man pauses before grabbing a struggling Frost and an anxious Serene, pulling them under his frame as he ducks to the ground. "Away." Is all he says.

Serene can smell the rich tang of blood on him. There's an undertone of something else, reminiscent of smoke. People run past him, shouting something. He shouts back but doesn't move until they've past.

Then he gets up, hoisting them with him and Ether appears, scowling and bloody. Smoke billows into the sky.

"Why did you save us?" Asks Frost.

"Like I said, I owe a debt."

xXx

When they arrive at the new village, the man is greeted with open hostility. The people are wary of Ether and Serene, but charmed by Frost.

The man pays for them to have a house and food for two weeks.

Serene stops him at the gate when he goes to leave. "Who are you? And who did you owe a debt to?"

The man crowds her against the wall, out of the sight of the villagers. He leaves her enough space to say no to his next stunt. He can overpower her but he doesn't.

Serene should say no. She should bat him away. But the bandages across his midsection are testament that he didn't have to do this.

Like Kieve, she feels grateful.

"Chante," He says. The doctor had wanted to kill him when they saw the tattoo across his lower back. He either had been or still was the leader of the Pride.

He was seen as twice the menace he was before.

His mouth doesn't demand. It asks. His tongue seeks hers. Her hands trail over steel-like muscle and scarred skin. He sinks into her, and she arches against him, gasping and clutching.

When it's over, he straightens out her ruffled clothes.

"Will you be back?" She asks.

His expression is mildly guilty when he replies. "Probably not."

"And if I end up pregnant?"

This gives him pause. "If that is so, send for me immediately."

The territory he points her to is not what she expected. "The person I owed a debt to was your son." And then he's gone.

Serene is left feeling like ice water was dumped over her sensitive flesh. She, feeling numb, goes home and bathes, hoping to wash away everything.

The chances of bearing a non-human's child is so low, Serene doesn't know why she bothered to ask. Ether eventually joins her, squeezing his broad body into tub with her slim form. "I feel remorse," He says. "Eveybody is dead and we get to start fresh."

Serene isn't sure how she feels about it. But she knows fresh isn't an option.

Not for Serene.


	10. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sho is given an invitation he thinks he better turn down.

Sho hisses as he's thrown down for the fifth time. The other man holds him down into the mud and Sho is beyond furious.

They should have been evenly matched. But that stupid blond kept dodging into their battle and out again to his own. He struggles vainly against the man before coming to terms with the fact that he's going to have to hurt himself if he wants to get anything done. His forehead collides with the other man's nose. The loosened grip lets him maneuver enough to flip them over.

Bright blue eyes stare into his own. One of them isn't going to come out of this alive. And Sho knows it has to be him. His mother is fighting hard against the leader of the enemy, a slim man packing power. And rain.

Sho hates rain almost as much as he hates Bordeaux.

The man sinks his teeth into Sho's wrist. He clenches his teeth and punches his assailant. "Why don't you just die?" He draws a dagger from his waistband and makes a plunge for the heart.

The man grips the dagger over Sho's hands, struggling against him to keep the knife from finding a home in his chest. He has the audacity to smirk up at Sho. "Sticks an' stones."

"Human reference," Calls the blond as he hip throws Sho's distantly-related Cousin. "I call foul."

The red head underneath him laughs. "Shut the hell up, Sech."

For a man about to die, he's way too happy. Sho puts more weight onto the blade. It descends another inch. The man sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. Sech moves to play defense again but some of Sho's Clan members intercept him.

Sho smiles down at the other man. "When we're done, I'm going to see if the rumours about your friend are true."

The red head underneath him scowls, freckles across his face accentuating the expression. "An' what rumours would those be?"

"That he sold himself to a brothel to get some cock."

The knife presses another inch. "Leave 'im alone."

"He's certainly pretty. Takes care of himself like a woman. Aways sticks close to you." Sho's voice trails. "Chikotsu, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was getting some from you."

Chikotsu bares his teeth, wriggles slightly. "What can I say? I'm the epitome of companionship." Then the knife falls. Chikotsu uses all his might to redirect it but what Sho lacks in strength, he makes up for in speed.

Chikotsu gasps as the knife sinks into his shoulder. Moans as Sho rips it out mercilessly. There's a call to retreat but Sech is overwhelmed by the opposition and Chikotsu is pinned. Sho rears back slightly, about to finish him off. And Chikotsu laughs. Laughs so hard his split lip bleeds worse.

And Sho is thrown off. "What? What's so funny?"

"You're about ta hate yourself."

This gives Sho pause. Confusion colors his features. And then Chikotsu punches him in the dick.

Chikotsu lets him live and from under the searing pain, Sho watches him come to Sech's rescue.

And then Sech stands over him, hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "You think I'm pretty, huh?"

The pain is a dull throb. "Did you sell yourself to a brothel?"

Chikotsu looks aggravated. Like he might kill Sho after all. Sech rolls his eyes. "Kiss a guy more than once in public and everybody thinks you're a slut." The blond crouches to be level with him, pinches his cheek with long, thin fingers. "Why'd you ask? Wanna try me on, little cub?"

"Sech." Chikotsu's tone is a warning. "We need ta go."

"Don't be jealous." Sech releases Sho's aching cheek. "You think he's eye candy, too."

"I don't like men," Says Sho. "I was talking shit."

Sech's gaze becomes terrifying then. His eyes see him. But they also see through him. And then he turns to Chikotsu, shrugging. "I guess you got all upset for nothing."

Chikotsu takes the opportunity to thrust his foot into Sho's ribs when he least expects it, leaving him clutching his side and trying to catch his breath.

Sech stands. "I think you'll change your mind one day..."

When his mother finds him, she's angry at the broken bones and the failed murder of her rival's newest battle duo. But she's more worried about her own.

He doesn't tell her about the exchange. And he certainly doesn't tell her he thought about accepting Sech's offer, as twisted as it was.

Because his Clan didn't believe in that. Even though other Clans practiced it for one reason or another, his had decided it was largely unnecessary. It wasn't banned. But it was certainly frowned upon.

"We're killing every last one of them," She says between clenched teeth.

Sho lets her fume for a few minutes. Then he proceeds with his plan. "Save his new battle duo for me."

His mother gives him a strange look. He shrugs. "It would be a shame for their good blood to go to waste."

Good breeding was usually evident in their power and stature. The red head definitely had good genes. So using him as fresh blood for the Clan would be a good thing for them.

"The blond of the duo doesn't have blood worth saving." Well, that would technically be true. He wasn't as physically strong as Sho or Chikotsu, that was obvious. But he made up for it in cunning and tactics. He was also shorter than both Sho and Chikotsu.

Another way around it then....

"I want the blond for my personal pleasure."

Sho's mother looks at him strangely. He can see the disappointment in her eyes. "He seems like the type to scream when his arm is twisted just right."

His mother smiles. "I was afraid you'd never get violent. So good to know that you aren't developing differently than anyone else."


	11. Of Business and Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xerxes has thought all those he had been friends with, all those he trusted in Kenjin's army, have left. The good thing is that a few of them meant it when they said they'd never leave him behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really awkward posting anything remotely lemon-like..  
> Not to say I have any trouble writing it.

Xerxes isn't sure how to feel about this as he watches the black smoke begin to pour from the back of the large, three-storey house.

While he hates the Tarshish, he thinks that these have done no wrong. He would believe the allegations with proof of them. But he has seen none.

He hangs back, waiting for them to come running out, courtesans, customers and Madam or Master. He's not sure how burning down the brothel itself will make a point, but it looks like it has had a lot of work and quint put into it.

May be it will teach the people not with withhold what's owed Kenjin or give sanctuary to the growing rebellion.

And it's growing faster than the flames as they consume the house.

He isn't sure how to feel about that either. He can see the flaw in some of Kenjin's policies, but the man has largely done well for his Territory and the mass of people living in it. The only thing that stops Kenjin from having the entire island is Princess Kuden's Territory in the South and Keava's guerrilla forces in the East. She has been waging a subtle war for years. Where she gets her people, Xerxes will probably never know.

Kuden is young. And Keava is older than most, power not yet waning. But by the next generation, it would be.

And then Kuden would have to surrender.

"Shiik! Don't let them out of that door!"

Xerxes turns to his commander. "Where else will they go? There aren't any other exits available to them."

"That's the point, Shiik."

Did Shouxen not know how many people were in there? Gods, Xii were stupid. "We can't just let thirty-plus people burn to death!" Even Xerxes doesn't want to go out that way.

Shouxen seems stoic, unfazed. "They'll die of smoke inhalation before the fire can get them. They won't feel too much."

The screaming and wailing becomes louder. "There are _children!_ "

"And they'll thank you for rescuing them from that hell hole."

"They can't thank us if they're dead! And this isn't rescuing! This is _murder!_ " Xerxes pulls one man away from the massive oak double doors, other soldiers look at him and each other in confusion. Xerxes sees a range of emotions on each of their faces. From anxiety to regret to sorrow to glee. "We can't murder innocent people."

Many of them seem to agree and begin to step away from the doors.

Commander Shouxen's fist knocks Xerxes to the ground before kicking him in the face. "Every person that escapes from that scum bath is another member of your family that has to die! Nobody lives!"

The other soldiers are mortified, torn between their morality and their families.

"Dignity!" Cries Xerxes. "If we must die, if our families must die, we will die with dignity!"

"Speak for yourself, Shiik," Says Shouxen, the heel of his boot pressing deep into Xerxes' abdominal muscles. "This man has no wife. No children. You should consider this." The screaming becomes louder, voices more frantic.

"Why are we killing people who probably are unaware of the vengeance we're wreaking? Why don't we just hunt down the guilty? This makes no sense!"

"Hold those doors!"

Xerxes watches, breathless as the men hold the doors shut. They rattle and shake while the screams become something more horrific. Something not capable of belonging from this world. And he stays under Shouxen's boot, under the man's weight for some time. Eventually, the house becomes silent, only the sound of the roaring fire remains.

He stays long after Shouxen removes his boot.

xXx

"Shiik," Says Shouxen. "Come take a walk with me."

Xerxes reluctantly stands, nauseous and restless, and follows his Commander.

"Son, not everything we do is pretty," Says Shouxen. "But all of it is necessary."

_Lie_ , something whispers inside of Xerxes. "We didn't have to kill them."

"We did." The older man takes him by the men digging graves, shallow holes for innocent people. "Keava's agents were hiding there. And we couldn't sort them out because their identities weren't known."

"It wouldn't have been as hard as you say. There had to have been another way."

Shouxen sighs. "I'm reporting you if you don't straighten yourself out."

Xerxes shuts his mouth for rest of the mission.

It weren't as though he scorned killing another person. He had done it before. But this - This is different.

When he dreams, he sees faceless people along with the adversaries he's defeated. These faceless people blame him. Try to take hold of him.

The children, also faceless, scream and sob.

And Xerxes doesn't know if it's worth killing the few to save the many.

Even after he returns home, he has the horrific dreams. He wants to do right by these people. Tarshish, Human, or Full-Blood. Hell, he'd even make it right for the half-breeds.

But what could he do that would lay them to rest?

He stands in the market, an apple in one hand, peach in the other, he looks as though he's deliberating over them so the vendor doesn't shoo him off.

"I'd pick the apple, if I were you. You don't look like the type to greatly enjoy peaches." The man beside him is brawny but not to the point of being muscle-bound and unattractive. He could probably take Xerxes. And Xerxes is- Was only shorter than Chiikets.

But Chiikets is gone. And Xerxes is starting to understand why.

"Although you don't seem the type to like apples either."

Xerxes glances at the man again. His eyes are light brown and while he looks civilian, Xerxes knows his face from somewhere.

_Quickly_ , The voice from before whispers. _Remember quickly. Your life depends on it._

But he draws a blank. "So what fruit do you actually think I like?"

The man looks over the different fruits for a long moment. "Apricots."

The memory of a guy he used to hang out with surfaces. The guy always brought apricots with him. They used to eat them on his porch during the long summer afternoons they both had off.

"Do you like them?" Xerxes blurts, feeling stupid.

The man smiles kindly. "I used to. I ate too many as a kid." He chuckles and hands the vendor a few quint, picking up a ripened plum. Xerxes knows he watches a little too intently when the man's teeth sink into the flesh of the fruit.

Its nectar spills down his chin and fingers. Xerxes meets the man's eyes. The glint of knowing brings a shiver to him. And come to think of it, he'd had a thing for the guy that brought him apricots, too.

But that guy was twisted up six ways to hell in other things, other people, and never thought of him as more than a friend.

Xerxes sets down the other fruit. The vendor gives the man a scandalized glance but doesn't have time to yell at them because a woman is asking him about his wares. The man, eyes like honey, offers him the plum and Xerxes tries not to seem too eager to receive.

His bite is tentative, eyes closed to savour the flesh of the fruit, the juice leaves him sticky. He suddenly feels very unsexy, slightly irked that the other man could pull it off.

Said male leans in quick, tongue drawing up the juices from Xerxes' chin. Xerxes moves to step back but the man has an iron grip on his wrist. The very tip of his tongue slides up Xerxes' jawline, sharp teeth sink into his earlobe.

His hands shoot up and grip the man's shirt, the plum forgotten. The man moves even closer into Xerxes' space, cheek against his. "I heard you and Shouxen had a disagreement."

Xerxes feels like ice water has been poured over him. "Sir. I just can't get on board with the murder of innocents."

The man pushes something into his free hand. "Then you should join the rebel cause."

"Sir! I-" Whatever he was going to say was lost in a gasp as the man's teeth sank into his neck.

"Sir, huh? You don't have any clue, do you?"

"Do you really want me to use your name in a place that everyone can hear?"

"Right." The man steps back. "In your hand is a place you can use my name." His eyes take a wicked gleam.

Xerxes hopes he doesn't look like a pitiful cub. The vendor is scowling now. The woman is extremely intent on the two of them.

xXx

To any prying eye, it's not anything of interest Xerxes tries to look nice but not overdressed. 

The same woman from the market opens the door and Xerxes' feels like a complete moron. Of course Haunku wouldn't come alone.

She practically drags him through the doorway and slams the door behind them both. "This could have been a trap. Seriously." She says. "Did you come prepared for that occasion?"

"Leave him alone Anju."

"Haunku-"

"Go and get things ready for our departure."

Anju sniffs indignantly and leaves.

"I have so many questions," Says Xerxes.

"I know," Says Haunku, unfastening his button-up shirt. Xerxes licks his lips. "We don't have very much time right now. So pick the one you feel is most important."

There's a long pause where their eyes meet. "What happened to your sister?" That little girl had kept him from every attempt at seducing her brother.

"I don't know. I have my theories but I can't prove them."

"Were you always this interested in sex with me?"

"I told you I had time for one question."

Striding over, Xerxes sits across from Haunku on the bare wooden stools. "Humor me."

"No. I didn't even realize I had a sex drive until recently."

"I guess that woman you're with _is_ pretty hot."

"She's asexual."

"Awkward."

Haunku smiles. "Easy."

"She is?"

"Working with her." Haunku pulls Xerxes' shirt off. Xerxes lets him. He can feel himself practically vibrating. "She's just as focused on our task as I."

"And what would that be?" Xerxes' hands explore Haunku's chest and abdomen. It's littered with shiny scar tissue and somehow that just adds to the sex appeal.

"Not your problem." Haunku yanks Xerxes off the chair, forcing him to his feet. Haunku's teeth sink into his collarbone and he hisses.

Deft fingers unfasten Xerxes' trousers and slide inside. "Ah. _Ah!_ "

Xerxes presses into the hand. Teeth clench his nipple and his fingers wind tight into Haunku's hair.

Haunku blows on the abused nipple. "Don't just stand there and whine like a bitch."

Sniffing, Xerxes pushes Haunku back onto the chair and straddles him. "Want to beg then?"

Haunku merely smirks up at him. "If you can make me."

xXx

He shivers and shudders while Haunku strokes his hair.

Anju doesn't seem phased as she makes herself dinner. "I'm not cleaning the ejaculate. Seriously."

Haunku snorts, hair sticking to his face. "I thought women were made for that." At the disgusted face Anju makes, Haunku smiles. "I've got some here on my stomach. Why don't you come lick it off, hmm?"

"Why don't I introduce a chair to your face, _hmm?_ "

Haunku laughs. "Everything in place?"

"Yes," She says, dropping all murderous intent. "They'll be waiting after dark."

"We'll need to get them soon, then."

Anju takes a bite of her sandwich. "Keava's going to flip a shit if she finds out you're knocking boots with other men. Seriously." Anju's tone is casual, like she's talking about the color of the counter she's leaning against.

"But you won't tell her." Haunku says smartly.

"Duh, fuck face. You could have sex with trees and - as long as it isn't in front of me - I don't care. Just don't tell me about it. Seriously."

"I masturbated on-"

"Fuck!" Anju shrieks. "I said don't tell me! Seriously!"


	12. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sho has big plans.  
> But Megan has plans of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually should be writing for Camp NaNoWriMo.  
> But I'm belting out chapters of this instead....  
> Yay?

Nierka sits on a bank, kicking her legs in the water. And Sho likes the way she looks, small and innocent and lovely to look at.

"Are you going to stand there and daydream all day?" Her voice carries up the hill to him. He takes his time before sitting beside her, he doesn't have shoes and socks to remove like she does. He wonders how she can stand something like that.

But he grew up chasing the moon barefoot and she grew up putting on those strange foot coverings every day since she was small.

Well.... Smaller than she is now. Or maybe Sho is just big? The size difference is really only decided by Race, isn't it?

He watches minnows swim around her ankles. "Tell me that story about the Mainland again?"

"Which one?" Her soft pink lips stretch into a smile, head turning to him.

"The one where your brother got his first..." His mind turns up a blank space. And it's such a simple word he can't remember, that he's mildly frustrated.

"Car?"

Sho nods. He has seen her drawings of them before, but he wishes that he could witness how they move, breathe in the smells Nierka associates with cars, listen to the noises they make.

He wants to know how they work.

Nierka shifts a little. "You sure you wanna hear it again?"

Sho smiles. "Yes."

Nierka shrugs. "Okay. So in his sixteenth summer, Tony got a car. It was blue like the water and shiny like metal- although cars _are_ made of metal, mind you- He gets so excited that he starts dancing, trips over his feet and face plants right onto the front of the car!" Sho wonders what Tony looked like. Was he beautiful like his sister? Did he have the same dark hair and green eyes? "So we kinda freak out, right? He jumps up and insists he's alright but then- "

"Megan! What are you doing alone out here?!"

Sho scowls. He hates these people.

Megan- his Nierka- turns to the matronly woman. "I'm not alone, ma'am."

"You're alone with a man. A Beast-man, no less."

"Sho isn't a beast," Says Nierka. "He's just different. They're just the same as we."

The woman, stares at Megan for a long time. "Come inside. Your fiance is waiting for you."

Sho really hasn't had the mind to ask Nierka what a "Fiance" is, but he surmises that it's a servant of some kind. Or maybe her teacher. Perhaps her right hand?

This person is often taking up much of Nierka's time. But Sho plans to fix that, dreams of being the one Nierka spends most of her time with.

If the village doesn't riot over it first.

Although, killing the Shadow Clan's heir would send them all to execution. So Sho doubts he'll cause a fit by taking one of their women. Plus, she's an outsider. Not quite one of them, not quite a stranger.

They should have no qualms.

But this old woman does. And she's the only person that can stir the whole damn village into rebellion.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go, Sho." She stands, grabs her foot coverings, her index and middle finger are crooked into the backs of them, they hang from those two fingers.

From this position, he can see her soft, milky throat. And he knows he shouldn't stare, but it's not often he sees a woman's neck.

"Are you okay, Sho?"

The shame strikes him hard. He averts his eyes. Looking at his soon-to- be-wife's throat before he could even truly begin to court her. What kind of man is he? "Yes. Have a good evening, Nierka."

Nierka, thinking Sho is awfully put out, runs a hand through his hair, an intimate gesture she doesn't know the implications of, and turns to meet the woman who's staring, disapproving. "Good evening, Sho."

And then he's left alone on the bank.

At least, he thinks he is until the old hag clears her throat.

He turns, smiles. But he's really just baring his teeth.

"Stop that," She says in his mother's tongue. "I know what that means." The shock Sho feels must have crossed his features. The woman crosses her arms. "You aren't the first animal to love a Human."

He keeps his lips carefully closed.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. Were you even going to give her a Jiira?"

That was his next order of business, actually. "I'm giving it to her the next time I see her."

"No, you're not."

Sho can feel his hackles rising. "And why would that be?"

"Because she doesn't belong to you," She says. He starts to smile again, he's resisting but his body is made to do this. "And you don't even have the decency to bring her a Mokk'et."

His face flushes with shame. He should have brought her one the second time he'd met her, but he was afraid that she would be shunned or wouldn't understand what it meant. And then, after knowing what it meant, reject it. "Would she have even thought to wear it?"

"Wouldn't it have been better to have brought her a throat covering instead of appearing to be lecherous? Furthermore, you don't seem keen on integrating her in to your family. Are you planning to leave your place, oh Prince?"

There was no way she could have known that.

He'd been careful to keep it a secret until the right moment when he would come for Nierka like the princes in the stories she told with dainty, gesturing hands and tiny pink tongue. "No. I just wasn't ready to introduce her to our ways. I wanted to really know her. My wife."

"That is never going to happen," Says the woman. Before he can reply or give a scathing remark, she turns on her heel and storms back into the town, calls out as the gates close, "I'm warning you. Listen to me before you make a fool out of yourself."

He's puzzled at this. Did this mean she thought Nierka would reject him? And did she have good evidence to believe this?

What did she and Nierka talk about?

With a sigh, he pushes to his feet. He will have to bring her the Mokk'et first. Then propose to her like Humans were want to do. Then she would wear his Jiira. He'd need a Bride Price, too. But who would get it? It weren't as though he could send it to the family she no longer had...

Troublesome indeed.

She was definitely his, though. And he would prove it to them. That old hag didn't know what she was talking about.

 xXx

Getting a white horse is so ridiculously difficult that Sho vows to always send someone else to fetch things for his plans. Finding a horse is hard. They were only used by Humans and they were reserved for only the higher ranks. Buying one from them is harder. He eventually becomes frustrated and throws the whole bag, the size of his fist, onto the table, fuming.

The man negotiating stares.

"Take it!" Sho says. "And give me that damn animal!" The only white horse in the last six stables in just as many villages he has visited.

The negotiator carefully peers inside the bag.

And then faints, his guards catching him. The head guard looks up at him then. "Where did you get that many gold coins?"

Sho simply points to the animal. "Give."

So they do.

He's thankful the breed is large and sturdy. He's tall with the body of a warrior and he doesn't want to embarrass himself or do harm to the horse. Nierka would be upset.

 _Oh yes_ , He thinks when they give him the riding gear as well. _This is perfect._

xXx

Nierka accepted the Mokk'et, a soft scarf with designs his Clan associated with love and good fortune, and apologized profusely for not wearing one when he explained the point of it to her.

She seemed to think he just couldn't bear seeing her throat again.

Now, here they were, sitting in one of the small restaurants, watching people pass by.

Well, Nierka is watching them pass by. He is watching Nierka. The sun on her face, the smooth skin of her uncovered arms is a contrast to the battle hardened people he has known all his life. He's attracted to it. Not because there's anything wrong with scars. But because of Nierka's, over all, lack of them.

Finally, her gaze turns to him. "What is it?"

He opens his mouth then shuts it. She's so beautiful that he just wants to take her in his arms and kiss her right then and there.

"What's wrong?" Her hand touches his forearm. It sends lightning through him.

He almost stands and screams to the whole island - No. The whole world that this woman is his. That he loves her so much his heart might burst.

Until he sees the expression on her face. "I'm sorry," He says. "Nothing is wrong. I just." He takes a moment to make eye contact, taking the encouragement shining in her soft green eyes and channeling it to strength. "I need to show you-"

"Oh! Nierka!"

Her head whips to the doorway in which a man has entered. "Bordeaux! You're just in time to meet my friend, Sho!"

Bordeaux looks at him in a way that Sho knows he himself has looked at the people Nierka spends time with.

Sho doesn't like him.

Sho has been sitting across from Nierka and stares at Bordeaux, lips twitching upwards. Making it nonverbally clear he isn't going to move. So Bordeaux takes the seat beside her.

Introductions are made, the word "Fiance" used again. Sho is sorely tempted to ask what that word means but doesn't want his soon-to-be wife thinking he's an idiot.

"Did you invite him to the wedding?" Bordeaux asks.

"Oh!" Exclaims Nierka, pulling something out of her trouser pocket. "I'm so sorry, Sho! I almost forgot!"

"You did forget, dear," Says Bordeaux.

"Yes, yes." She slides the paper over to him. It's white and the ink is red with winding letters.

It would be pretty if he didn't feel like that ink was his blood.

Bordeaux's fingers play with Nierka's scarf. "Megan really values your friendship. I hope you'll be there."

The old hag was right.

He stood. He would have been taller than Bordeaux had the man been standing.

But he wasn't. And Sho wasn't going to use the intimidation stance on a sitting man. Let alone a sitting Human. "I'm not okay with you marrying him."

Nierka looks puzzled. "I'm sorry, Sho. I know I should have introduced you sooner but-"

"I want you to join my family. I don't care about introductions."

"But Sho, we'll always be family. You can visit. And the children, when I have them, will love you-"

Sho throws the table to the left, away from the window. People begin squawking as they rush to get out of the way. "I wanted you to bear _my_ children, Nierka! _Not his!_ I don't want to visit, I want you to lay in my bed every night so I can come home to you!""

Nierka stares at him, mouth agape, eyes wide. He can see her putting the pieces together like he'd given them to her but she didn't know what they were until now.

Humans are starting to oogle and murmer amongst themselves. They look at him like he's an animal with a disease that makes him rabid. He wants to kill them.

All of them.

He thinks he'll start with Bordeaux. Then that old hag that always scowls at him from the gates.

He isn't sure if he'll kill Nierka or not.

Finally, the woman stands. "Oh, Sho." She is cautious but not afraid when she approaches him. Doesn't she know he could snap her neck with a flick of his wrist? "I didn't mean to be so hurtful. I hope you can forgive me some day."

Sho picks up words from the crowd like 'Traitor' and 'Beast lover.' His vision is nearly red, their heartbeats in his ears. He wants to taste their blood.

Nierka removes her scarf. "Is this a courtship gift?"

Technically no. But for their relationship, it would be seen as one. "No. Keep it. Because I haven't any control." He means of himself.

But Nierka gives him a soft, empathetic look. "I'm sorry that this has gone so badly."

He, at first, wonders what the hell she means by that. Wonders if she is more sorry for his reaction than breaking his heart.

But the way she glances around with only her eyes says she's sorry she humiliated him in public.

She's sorry for everything.

And so is he. So he slips out. Runs like a coward instead of killing his rival and taking Nierka like he was taught.

He chooses not to tell his family the truth.

Chooses to let the entire village live.


	13. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjin has always been trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty dark. So if you don't like the painful stuff, I would suggest skipping it.  
> This is the longest chapter I have ever done. Yay?  
> So, if you like monster chapters with monsters in the guise of people, enjoy the chapter, I guess.

She's tired and hungry and cold. Rain water still drips from her hair and clothes.

She _hates_ this. Hates it so much it's almost enough to make her go back and let Anayo tear her apart like he said he would.

Renjin hates that she's tempted.

She refuses the shelter of caves and caverns, unable to bear the haunting, echoing sound of a baby's cry.

A movement to her left startles her and she pushes herself back and to the right as quickly as she can as soon as she sees what's there, ignoring the thorns that catch her hair and scrape her face.

A man, blue eyes and auburn colored hair crouches at the opening of the little tunnel she's made with large pieces of tree bark, mud, and overarching thorn bushes.

His gaze chills her blood and makes her afraid both to look away and watch him closely.

They don't move for long minutes, even though it's still raining and he has to be cold by now.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"You won't fit." Renjin herself had a hard time squeezing through the space.

He holds out his hand, even several feet away, Renjin flinches. "Then why don't you come out?"

She presses back further against the brush and prickly vegetation. "Why should I?"

His gaze only wavers when he has to blink the water out of his eyes. "Because you'll die out here. And at the very least, you shouldn't have to die alone."

Renjin considers this before slowly crawling from her hideout, the man backs up to give her room.

He takes her through dense forests and slick muddy areas, keeping her from slipping as they go. And Renjin carefully studies his profile. Curiously glances at the gloves on his hands.

"How long have you been out here, little Minnow?"

Renjin takes a minute to calculate. "A year."

He glances back at her, eyebrows up. "Most don't make it without a Pack. Where were you before that?"

Renjin, knowing what her family has done to volumes of people, ashamed of those deeds and afraid of the reaction, knows better than to lay all her cards on the table. "The Toko family."

He pauses, turns fully to look at her. "How old are you?"

"Twelve Summers, sir."

His expression darkens, eyebrows drawn up and together, lips twisted into a thin line. "I'm sorry." He sounds like he means it. "I didn't even know- " He cuts himself off, turns away. "I'll fix this," He says. "I'll make it right."

And Renjin is in turmoil. Men were never like that without a purpose. She just had to figure it out before he got what he wanted and discarded her. It didn't matter that he sounded genuinely pained and angry. Hurt on her behalf.

He was planning to get her.

And she had to get him first.

xXx

He takes her into an old cabin. It's not really all that attractive to Renjin's eye, but it's warm. She hears murmuring a small distance from them. When they turn down a short hallway that opens up to another room, his Pack is there, huddled around the fire. Some of them are as wet as she is. The Pack he's with is pretty big, mostly made up of women. A few of them have male partners.

A robust blond male watches her curiously.

Many of them continue with their business

The man Renjin is with doesn't shiver, but his lips are blue. He ignores a shivering Renjin and her chattering teeth, as he makes the necessary introductions.

The last woman he introduces Renjin to, he kneels before, so close their knees touch. She hadn't looked at him until then. He leans close and she leans away, playing with him from what Renjin can tell.

She spares a glance toward the girl before putting a caramel-colored hand over his face, shamelessly pushing him away. "You just love picking up strays."

"I have to repay the kindness a beautiful woman once bestowed me."

A woman sitting three people away, perks. "Don't complement me in front of your Chosen. I'm way too old for a fight to the death."

The Chosen rolls her dark brown eyes. "I might fight you to the death over that. You're only two years older than I." She then turns toward Renjin. "Introduce."

Renjin fidgets under the gaze of this woman. "Renjin. Escaped from Kenjin's territory under the assistance of Keava. Packless."

The woman gives her a wary look. "Why would she leave you after providing assistance? She is usually keen on adding to her forces."

"I don't know, Madam Chosen."

"Shiseken," The Chosen says. Then she points to the man who brought her. "Chiikets."

xXx

The room Chiikets takes her to has two children already in it. Both of them around Rozolyn's age.

"Introduce," Says Chiikets.

The boy looks up from whatever he's reading at the desk, his form is slim and makes Renjin think of skinny Tarshish. "Shen."

The girl doesn't look up from her sowing. "Kira Kaddesh. Hailing from the deceased Kaddesh Clan."

Renjin turns to Chiikets. "I can't stay with-"

He holds up a hand. "It is only for this afternoon. I want to discuss with Shiseken where she wants you." Renjin wants to pout. His gloved hand settles over the top of her head. "Get comfortable. I'm sorry to say we'll have to check your physical status soon."

Renjin's stomach begins to twist itself up. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Little Minnow. But it is an obligation I have to go through with."

She wants to grip his hand and beg, to run when he isn't looking. "I can't do it."

"We need to know that you're healthy and not a danger to anyone else." And then he withdraws down the maze of hallways, leaving Renjin practically wringing her hands.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Says Kira. "It isn't as though he wants to see you naked."

"Did he do a physical check on you?" Asks Renjin.

Kira nods. "It wasn't a big deal. Really."

She looks over at Shen but he's gone back to reading, ignoring them. This sets Renjin further on edge.

xXx

"Come here you little animal," Says a woman named Kiren. "We have to get this Mokk'et on you before dinner."

But Renjin refuses to come out from underneath the Human-style bed, staring at the woman with baleful green eyes. "Don't make me get Shiseken. She'll whip your ass six ways to next month."

So Renjin reluctantly slides out from under the bed. The Mokk'et selected is a purple collar. It leaves Renjin wondering what sort of rank Shiseken wants her in.

Dinner is an affair that puts Renjin at ease, rubbing shoulders with the older members of the group and getting a feel for who is what in the massive hierarchy.

But more than once does she feel Shiseken is watching her carefully.

Kajmir, Chiikets' Second, tells all sorts of stories during and after dinner, usually with some amount of hyperbole or another. There's a girl a year or two older than Renjin herself. She speaks about as much as a brick wall. Renjin finds her the somber type.

When Chiikets comes back, he tells her that she, the girl, and the girl's cousin will be sharing quarters.

The cousin never shuts up. She's older than them but younger than many of the adult members.

"I heard you came from the horrible Toko family," Says Honjin, the cousin. "What was it like?"

"Leave her alone, Ess'en," Says Kajiim, the girl. Her voice is surprisingly deep. "I highly doubt she wants to relive it."

When their eyes meet, Renjin is aware that what Kajiim knows about her family isn't from second hand stories. "Where did you come from before this?"

Kajiim turns back to folding clothes.

"The Fargreft Clan," Says Honjin. And Renjin remembers a few faces, including one of the men here.

She wonders what caused him to defect. He was loyal to her family to a fault before.

And he knows who she is.

He could get her killed.

Panic starts to set in until she realizes Kajiim and Honjin are both watching her with curious, concerned glances.

If he knew who she was, he would have let the eel out of the net by now.

So she says, "Oh."

xXx

The sounds of the rest of the Pack settling for bed reaches Renjin. She lays on her back in a nest of bedding. The other two lay not far from her.

After awhile, Honjin's breath even's out.

Kajiim's doesn't.

When she's had enough, Renjin sits up. Dark brown eyes don't glow as well as blue or green. "Are they looking for you?"

It's a reasonable question. But Renjin really doesn't want to answer.

"Whatever happens, our people will keep you safe. But you have to stop lying."

Renjin is suddenly cold, her world trembles just slightly. "What makes you say I'm lying?"

"Because I know, and Chante knows, who you are." Renjin is extremely aware of the fact that Kajiim didn't say ' _what_.'

"I'm telling the truth. I came from that family."

"But you neglect to mention that family is _yours._ "

"They never thought of me like that."

"It doesn't matter."

Renjin knows she should just pick up and leave. Before she owes anybody anything. But she's afraid of being alone again.

"Fine," Says Kajiim. "But don't lie about anything else. Every lie you tell is another ounce of punishment you heap upon yourself."

Renjin wonders where this girl gets off telling her what to do. "And if nobody figures it out?"

"Then you're still hurting you."

So it takes one to know one.

"Why don't you just spill about who I am?"

"Because that could get you killed. Especially if he thinks you were trying to infiltrate us."

"I thought you said-"

"There's a balance, Renjin. The more he knows about what was done to you, the more you can tell him about who you are."

"How do you know I'm not a spy?"

Kajiim rolls over then, back facing Renjin.

xXx

Renjin is dragged to a room, kicking and screaming, by Kiren the next day. Kajiim follows, providing silent support that goes largely ignored. It wouldn't have been if Kajiim had gotten her out of the exam.

But it seemed even Kajiim was resigned to it.

Chiikets sits in a chair on one side of the room, watching Renjin flail and Kiren swear.

" _Enough!_ " He snaps when it reaches a fever pitch. "Kiren, subduing a child should not be this difficult for you. Renjin, grow up."

Kiren practically throws Renjin onto the examination bench and storms out with a huff.

There's a curtain for a door but it's drawn. Renjin can see two shadows cast on it from the outside.

"Don't bother," Says Chiikets. "They're under orders that you don't leave this room unless I allow it."

"Kajiim," Renjin whines, shoulders drawing up as her arms go around her own midsection.

"I'm here," Says Kajiim from the other side of the curtain.

"Go ahead and come in," Says Chiikets. So she does. The guards peek in with curious expressions, both women so, theoretically, they could stop anything bad. Kajiim is quick to draw the curtain again.

Chiikets' expression becomes a mildly focused one. "Undress." Renjin stares him down hard but he doesn't budge. "I would like to just get this over with. _Please._ "

Kajiim brushes shoulders with her. If he hurt her, would Kajiim tell? Would she try to stop it?

Renjin doubts it as she removes her worn down shirt. Her trousers go next. Finally, the Mokk'et. She shivers under his gaze. But it carries no heat. No desire.

_This predator isn't hungry_ , Thinks Renjin with relief.

He checks her vision first, then her hearing. "Open." He says, pulling the glove off his right hand.

She reluctantly opens her mouth as wide as she can. The pads of two fingers slide along the edges of her teeth. First the top row, then the bottom, checking the condition of them, counting how many. "You don't have your back teeth yet." He sounds like he's speaking more to himself than to her.

He looks carefully at and underneath her tongue, uses a Human contraption to see down her throat. Then he looks at her gums.

"Anything I need to know?" He asks, checking her jaw then turning her head this way and that to look at the muscles of her neck.

"Not that I can think of," Says Renjin. Because she has never really had trouble with her health in the past.

"When was the last time you got sick?"

"Six months ago," She says.

He checks the alignment of her collarbone. Pauses then checks it again. "When did you break your collarbone?"

"Two years ago."

He checks the range of motion in her arms, straight up, to the side, back, and _hmms_ quietly to himself before moving behind her. "Let me see the back of your neck, please."

She lifts her hair, tilts her head forward and feels like she might vomit.

He runs his thumbs with light pressure from the base of her skull and down, feeling her spinal cord as he goes. He finally stops at the nape of her neck and feels the jutting bone there, before moving further down, a hand on her shoulder causes her to bend forward some as his fingers, lightly applying pressure, follow her spine all the way to her lower back.

"Something wrong?" Asks Kajiim. Renjin can't see his face so it makes her stomach roil.

"Nothing," He says as he gently has her stand straight again, his hands carefully prod at her scapulae, thumbs pushing in and searching for specific crevices.

She jumps when his palms press against the back of her ribcage, long fingers each lying atop a rib.

It starts as gentle pressure, slowly increasing. Renjin frowns."You're hurting me."

Kajiim shifts anxiously. Another moment before Renjin is squirming and the shadows on the other side of the curtain are starting to pay attention.

Finally, his strict fingers let up. Bruises are already beginning to form where his hands were. His hands are much more gentle when they press into her waist.

He comes back into her line of vision then. He meets her glare with a shrug. "It is good that your ribcage is strong. It means the rest of your bones are sturdy. You're in good shape." Her glare doesn't lessen. So he puts on a glove and places the gloved hand atop her head. "Grow up just a bit, huh? It's not like I was going to hurt you."

"My ribs are sore."

"And they will be for a few days, yet. But you aren't injured." And then his hand lifts, the glove is removed. "You aren't going to like this," He says.

His fingers press firmly against her sternum. First at the top. Then they slide down to the bottom. And Renjin begins to tremble at what she knows is coming next.

"It'll be over, soon." Kajiim sounds like she's trying to give encouragement.

Renjin glares at her instead then frantically grips his wrists and digs her nails in when his hands begin an examination of Renjin's budding breasts. "Stop," She says through clenched teeth.

"I don't like it any more than you."

"Then _stop!_ "

"Why are your mammary glands so developed?" Renjin hisses when his fingers give a soft tug on her nipple, already hardened because of the cool air.

"I hate you," She whispers. Her eyes meet his and she looks like she means it.

He points to the examination bench. "Lie down."

"I'm not an animal."

"Then stop acting like one." In one fell swoop, she's some how in his arms one minute, despite the rule that his bare hands on her for any reason other than examination is forbidden, and on the examination table the next. "Lie down."

Renjin wants to screech at him. To tear him open with her nails. Instead, she does as she's told. She isn't ready to do things the hard way.

His fingers apply skilled pressure over her abdomen, carefully looking for something. "Stand again," He says.

She glares at both Kajiim and Chiikets as she stands.

Then he kneels and Renjin tries to bolt before he grabs her by the back of the knee and she almost falls on her face. "No more games, Renjin."

Her breath picks up, trembling uncontrollable. Something tingly slides down her spine.

His fingers press against the top of her Iliac Crest and follow down on both sides. "The cradle of your hips is wider than girls your age," He says. "When did you have a baby?"

"S-six months ago." She starts to hiccup as his fingers press against the soft flesh of her pubis, peach fuzz brushes against his fingers.

"You're doing really well." He tries to encourage as he tests the rotation of her hips, finding everything well aligned in their sockets. Her tail bone is fine, too. He sits her on the table again before looking over tiny toes.

Some of them have been broken before but they bend and work to his expectations. The skin of her heels is tough. A sign her feet are sturdy.

Her ankles twist and rotate as they should. And he takes his time at her knees, wanting to avoid the next part nearly as much as she.

She struggles as he gently pushes her legs apart.

He needs to make sure her body recovered. "What happened to the-" There are tears running down Renjin's face when he looks up at her. Kajiim looks over his shoulder and covers her mouth with both hands.

His fingers trail over the horrific damage done, while Renjin hiccup-cries behind her own hands.

There is no way the birth of a child could have done this. "Who did this to you?"

Renjin doesn't respond.

Kajiim strokes her calf. "You need to tell him."

"Anayo," Renjin gasps. "Anayo did it."

Chiikets' eyes close, entire body trembling, tries to breathe through this. "When did he do this to you?" He lets her legs close. She won't be sexually active for another few years. Possibly never. She needs time to heal before he can finish things.

"Two years ago."

If he had known what had happened, he never would have- His shirt comes off and Renjin scoots away, still sobbing. The fabric is tossed over her, a rare gesture. "Your clothes need to be replaced. Cover yourself with that until I can find you something better." 

And then he leaves.

Kajiim hovers, unsure of what to do. "You know he didn't mean to actually hurt you, right?" She begins to look for Renjin's discarded Mokk'et. "If he knew that your body was," Kajiim pauses to find the right word.

"Disfigured?" Offers Renjin. "Mutilated?"

Kajiim shrugs helplessly, unable to find a way to pretty this up. To lessen how bad it really is. "If he had known, he'd have waited."

"Are you blaming me?"

"No," Says Kajiim. "I'm saying he didn't know."

"I didn't want anyone to know," Says Renjin. Her limbs are heavy. She doesn't want to get up or clothe herself. She wants to sit here, in this corner, forever and just die.

"I get that." Kajiim finally finds the Mokk'et from under Renjin's old pair of trousers. "I haven't told anybody about why we left Kenjin's services either."

The question hangs in the air but Renjin won't ask it because it's personal.

"He threatened to kill my little sister if my older brother didn't have sex with me." Her voice is distant.

"And I saw your little sister at dinner last night."

Kajiim hands her the Mokk'et. "Sometimes, you have to do things you don't like. Even if it hurts."

xXx

Chiikets eventually brings her clothes that don't have holes and fit well enough. Better than the old ones.

"I'm sorry," He says. "I should have known."

"But you didn't," Says Renjin, trying to be mature. "So don't think anything of it."

There's silence as she dresses.

After she's tied the last tie on her top, he finally gathers the courage. "Those cuts.... What did...?"

"What the Humans call scissors."

His grimace says he knows what those are.

"He always kept them sharp. Told me he wanted them to be ready when it was time to stab Anaya's eyes out." Renjin had never liked her elder sister. In fact had plotted to end her life a time or two.

"Did he? I heard she died a few weeks before Chante and his family left."

"No." Renjin carefully fastens the Mokk'et so her shoulder-length hair isn't caught. "I'm not entirely sure how she died. I am sure Anayo was upset he didn't get to do it."

xXx

"The fog is pretty thick tonight," Kajmir says to Chiikets two months later. Renjin has trailed behind him, wanting to see the fog, herself.

Chiikets stares out at it with relaxed posture. "We don't have to worry too much about covering ourselves then."

"Drink?" Asks Kajmir.

With a smile that makes Renjin feel like smiling, too, Chiikets says, "Just a little." 

xXx

She's stitching up particularly deep welt on Anaya's back under the low light of the candle.

"You shouldn't help me," Anaya whispers into the pillow.

"That's what sisters do, right?"

"No," Says Anaya. "You should have killed me when I was unconscious."

Renjin pauses. "But why? You don't kill people you love."

Anaya bolts up then. Takes Renjin by the shoulders. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"That feeling." She shakes Renjin hard. " _Kill it._ "

"You're hurting me."

"Good. I want you to hurt."

"Why would you-"

"Renjin, listen to me. Take this and then the hurt everyone else does to you and make it a weapon."

"A weapon?"

"Against me. Against our brother and father and Rozolyn. Don't let anyone close enough to knife you in the back because they will." She shakes Renjin hard enough to give her whiplash. "Do you understand, Renjin? _They will._ "

Renjin is reeling at the sudden change. "I-"

" _Do you understand?!_ "

"Y-yes!"

Anaya backs off after that, leaving Renjin feeling disoriented. Something smells like it's burning.

"Good." Anaya stands, the needle dangles from the reopened wound on her back. The other wounds are opened, too. The blood runs down her skin, soaking into her white pants. "They're coming for you."

"Who?" Renjin asks as Anaya begins out the door. "Who's coming for me?"

"Don't trust anyone, Renjin," She says as she disappears through the doorway.

It's then the burnt smell intensifies and Renjin is aware of people screaming.

When she bolts out of her nest of blankets, Kajiim is there, lantern in hand. "What's happening?"

"Anayo is here."

And Renjin realizes where the burnt flesh smell is coming from. "Are you okay?"

"We need to leave." She and Kajiim race to gather up the children.

Once outside, the fog is still thicker than soup. Renjin is disoriented.

Kajiim grips her arm harder than necessary. "This way." To the right they run. Kajiim's dark hair and gleaming metal armlets are what Renjin follows.

Until Kira stops, near sending Renjin flipping over her head over heels. "Where's Shen?!"

This causes both Renjin and Kajiim to search frantically. "Shen!!" They call in unison.

"You take the others," Renjin tells Kajiim. "I'll find Shen."

Kajiim looks reluctant until a man falls backwards into her, sword flailing. Kajiim's own sword puts an end to him. "Go."

When Renjin spots him, he's hiding in a tree, bow and arrow trained on the fray.

"Hey, you little idiot," Says Renjin as she climbs into the tree with him. "Time to go. What you're doing is dangerous."

"But I want to stay."

"Too bad. What if-" Renjin's sentence twists into a scream as blinding pain shoots through her left shoulder. She grabs Shen with her good arm and works her way down the tree until the same pain explodes in her right thigh.

When she lands on her back, it aggravates her wounds until her back is arched, mouth open, trying not to let any sound escape. Shen lands on top of her and she thinks she might pass out.

She's sweating and knows she's gasping like a fish.

Shen pats her cheek - rougher than Renjin would really prefer but there's nothing she can do about it. "Are you okay, Minnow?"

Renjin is forced to roll them when a shadow falls upon them, followed by the sheen of steel. They dodge another arrow but she feels nauseous and knows she won't be able to keep this up.

"You need to get out of here," She says.

Shen scowls. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about-" A strong hand grips her hair and yanks her back onto her knees. She pulls the knife hidden in the pocket of her trousers and stabs blindly. " _Go, Shen!_ "

The boy is tearful when he jumps up and makes a run for it. "I'm sorry, Minnow!"

"Find your brother!" She calls after him. The man behind her grabs the arrow shafts in her shoulder and thigh and drags her.

She's in burning agony but is thankful Shen has escaped.

xXx 

The spot she's dragged to has torches lit. Anayo reclines on a plush seat that keeps him away from the dirt. "We meet again, little sister."

" _Sister?_ " She can barely make out the figure in the mist. But she knows Chiikets' voice by now. "What the hell?"

"You didn't know?" Asks Anayo, moving to stand over Renjin. "She didn't tell you?"

"You cut your own sister's genitals with scissors?! What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?!"

He rolls Renjin over, grips the shaft of the first arrow and rips it out of her. This time, Renjin's vision does black for a few moments. And it takes her another minute to realize the person screaming is her. "I have very good reasons for the things I do, Chiikets."

"Like murdering my family and handing Haunku over to your father to be tortured?" 

"He escaped, you know." His boot collides with Renjin's face. "And Renjin has always begged for the things I did. Tell him, Jinny."

Renjin spits blood and, in between gasps, replies, "Fuck you."

"See? She even begs me to have sex with her. And she's insatiable, by the way."

"You're out of your mind," Says Chiikets.

Anayo smiles. "Thank you." He grabs the arrow still lodged in Renjin's thigh and drags her over to Chiikets' feet. "You should try her out."

Despite himself, Chiikets manages to stay deadpan. "I'm not having sex with a girl who's so young her pubic hair doesn't even have a curl."

"Don't talk about my pubic hair that way," Says Renjin to the dirt.

"Do it or your brother dies, too."

Renjin struggles as she takes the initiative, trying to get away. "Look at her, putting a simple act above the life of your brother. Grateful isn't she?"

Stifling anything that agrees with Anayo, he replies, "She's afraid. Rape tends to cause that."

"Look," Anayo catches up with Renjin before kicking her in the ribs so hard even Chiikets can hear the snapping as a few of them break. Renjin begins wheezing. Chiikets feels his stomach twist at the idea that her lung might be punctured. "Everyone can come out of this alive." He turns to Chiikets. "Or your brother can come out of it dead." A man drags a kicking Shen out of the mist and Renjin realizes Anayo is serious.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?!"

"I want her broken. She has been unraveling my plans for months."

"I didn't... Mean to," Renjin says between desperate breaths. "I didn't.... Know."

Anayo shrugs. "I think you're lying."

"I just wanted..." Chiikets' heart squeezes at how pitiful Renjin sounds. "Wanted...." Her hands attempt to pull her away from Anayo.

He tisks before flipping her onto her back. Squatting down near her head and looking her in the face. "Well, now it's about what I want."

Her eyes are glassy and dull. "You're going to hell."

He smiles. "We all are." He stands. "Do you hear the way she's breathing? Just do it quick. Then we can put her out of her misery and go back to our lives."

Shen is under the threat of death yet again. And it's all his fault.

_She's an outsider_ , He tries to tell himself as he moves to kneel between Renjin's legs. He can't bear to look her in the eyes, even as her clothes are shifted for his access.

"It won't be over," She says. "It'll never be over."

"Please," Chiikets whispers. "Please just shut up."

"So you can... justify your cowardice?" She sounds dead already. "Do you know what he'll.... say after this?"

Tears run down her face at the first push. He can't position her in a way that doesn't cause her pain, had to cut her out of her trousers because he didn't want to agitate the arrow- _Don't think about it_ , he tells himself, _Don't show any empathy to the outsider._

She's still gasping and choking- probably on her own blood- while he finishes. And it's unimaginably hard to even perform under these circumstances. When he's tucked himself back into his own trousers, he stands. Anayo is still looking at Renjin. "My brother?"

This seems to snap Anayo out of it. "Yes, yes. Sure. Dashiir."

The man brings Shen closer. The boy is crying, looking between Chiikets and Renjin. He looks like he was the one Chiikets betrayed.

"Shen, I know what you're thinking. But you have to understand that-" A glint of steel and Shen's blood sprays over his face.

The man releases Shen into Chiikets' arms. "No." He tries to staunch the bleeding but Shen is slipping through his fingers. "Shen. Oh Gods. No. No, please. _Please, Shen._ "

The boys hands cover his, expression resigned and soft.

"I love you, Shen. I love you." The boy smiles at him before the light fades and his muscles go slack.

Anayo puts a hand on his shoulder. "I never did pay you back for taking Haunku when you left." He begins to stroll back into the mist, voice like he didn't just destroy Chiikets in a handful of hours.

Not hours. Minutes. Fucking _minutes._

"The only reason I found you? The hounds were tracking Renjin. If only you had left her in that pitiful bush."

He doesn't know how long he's there. Listening to his own gasping, sobbing breaths and wheezing of a dying girl.

The last thing Shen saw was what he had done to her.

He pulls his brother closer. "I'm sorry, Shen. I'm so sorry."

Kajmir appears, hovering at the edges of the fog as though he were a spirit. "What's happened?"

"Shen is...."

Kajmir drops to a crouch and approaches that way. Hoping he won't be rebuffed with fists and curses. "My friend. What's happening in that crafty head of yours?"

Chiikets pulls Shen closer. "I want to die."

Kajmir doesn't respond, only kneels beside Chiikets, shoulder to shoulder, and strokes the boy's hair. "How do you want to proceed?"

"I need to take him back to my Aunt. And then I will hang myself."

Kajmir's hand between his shoulderblades is light. A calculated comfort. "Surely we can make better plans than that, my friend."

"You may be able to. But I have failed."

"No," Kajmir insists gently. "Were you able to tell him you love him?"

Chiikets nods.

"Then he was with you and safe in his last moments-"

"How can he be _safe_ if he's dying in my arms, Kajmir?!"

"Because you aren't scared when you die next to someone you always trusted with your life."

"How would you know?"

Kajmir shakes his head. "I may not have your cunning, but I am good at observation."

Chiikets couldn't deny that.

"Now, do you trust me?"

Chiikets finally looks at his friend. His hazel eyes are empathetic. "Don't ask me to."

"We need to clean his body and prepare it, Chiikets. And you need some time to breathe. You two won't be apart long if you stay true to your plans."

So Chiikets hands his brother over to the only one he trusts.

And then he's alone again.

Until he realizes he isn't.

His gaze turns to the red hair spread out on the ground.

This was her fault.

It takes effort to rise to his feet. More effort to stagger towards her. "You knew he would be looking for you." He drops to his knees near her. "You fucking _bitch._ "

Her eyes are glazed when they open. Her gaze is far away.

But all he sees is the color. "I told you it wouldn't be over."

And then his hands are around her neck. "I should have known you were a _Toko._ " She's too weak to struggle. "It was in my fucking face and I just let it go because you were so deceptively pathetic."

Renjin stares at him. Fingers heavy on his trembling, white knuckles.  


"I should have taken more pleasure in what I had to do to you." He backhands her once, twice. "I guess you deserved being cut up like a science experiment. What did you to make him destroy your pleasure receptors?"

"Doesn't matter," Says Renjin. "He always wins." She sounds empty.

"What are you talking about?"

Her eyes sharpen, they're clear when they meet his. "He wanted to twist you... until I was dead and you were.. like him. He's getting what he wants."

Chiikets bares his teeth. "I'm not like him."

"Then why... are you treating me.. like this?"

He can see the look of horror that crosses his face in her eyes.

Instead of killing her, he stands. "Goodbye, Little Minnow."

"Goodbye," She whispers.

And he walks away, leaving Renjin to die alone.

She wonders what hell is like. If she's going the go there.

If Nachte will protect Rozolyn like he promised. Probably not. Men were such useless creatures. Promising one thing and doing another. Renjin's last thought is a prayer for Rozolyn's safety.

xXx

xXx

"Ugh. Not this again," Sighs a man's voice.

"Hey, rabbit pie is delicious." This voice belongs to a woman.

"It's only delicious if I don't have to eat it everyday for two weeks."

"God. Are all Half-breeds as picky as you?"

Renjin groans. "So this is hell?"

"It's only hell when it's Triska's turn to cook."

"Jezreel, you picky fuck!"

xXx

It takes another week before Renjin's awake more than a few hours at a time.

She listens to Triska and the man banter. But she usually tries to ignore them.

Until one day, she can't.

"What kind of food do you like?" The man sits at the edge of her Human-styled bed.

"I don't want to eat."

"Starving yourself won't get you back on your dainty little feet."

"I don't want to get up. I want to go further down," Says Renjin. "I'm sorry I wasted your efforts."

"Hey now," Says the man. "It can't be all bad."

His hand lays on her shoulder and then she's on him. "Don't fucking touch me!" She swipes at him with her nails and when he's stunned, backing down, she makes a run for the door. She pushes it open before her knees give out in the hallway.

She screams her frustration to the carpet.

The man approaches, crouches near her head. "Well then! Looks like you're going to be just fine."

"I just tried to claw your eyes out and you hover over me like nothing happened? What the _utter twisted fuck?_ "

He laughs, causing her to flinch back. "Seeing you have strength is a relief. Triska thought you were a cripple."

She tries to spit on him for pretending to care but it only drips down her chin pathetically. He bites his lips together in an attempt to not smile. That pisses Renjin off more. "I hope eels get your testicles."

"Oooh!" He says. "We picked up a lively one after all."

"Don't expect a thank you, you naresuane."

"Little girl's got a mouth on her." He goes to pat her head but her snapping teeth make him think twice. "What makes you so feral, little one?"

"Go to hell."

"Come to think of it, a thank you would really have been nice." Renjin glares but his smile doesn't waver. "Luckily for you, I did this out of the kindness of my heart."

"Molk shit. I've heard that one before. Anything with a dick lacks compassion."

"Really child," He says. "You're quite offensive. Assuming things about my dick without real evidence."

"Fuck you," Mutters Renjin to the carpet.

His tone deepens, loses it's playful overtones. "They really did you in."

Her breath hitches.

"And," He sounds like he might not think he should say this, "You might be pregnant."

The bottom of Renjin's world drops out. "I can't have another baby I hate."

The man is quiet for a long time. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It has to die."

"Did you kill the last one?"

Her eyes meet his now. And he's nothing like she thought.

His eyes are gray, almost white, pupils parted in the middle at a slight diagonal.

"You're a Skin-walker."

He looks like he wants to protest the subject change, then thinks better of it. "I'm half Skin-Walker."

"The other half?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You can't tell?"

"I just can't fathom. Isn't interbreeding with Skin-Walkers illegal?"

"Just because something is illegal doesn't mean people don't do it."

"I'm home!"

"Awesome! No more rabbit pie!"

"Jezreel!"

Renjin really hates the idea of being stuck with these two morons.


	14. False Starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorajin wants Kieve to remember he's free.  
> Kieve is a little bit confused, but he can roll with the way he's being reminded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for last chapter, I bring you slash.  
> Oral sex ahead.  
> Weee.

When they return from looking for Sorajin's family, they head for the tub.

They'd encountered Sho on their way and he always seemed to make it a prerogative of dirtying Sorajin up. Kieve is thankful Sho actually served a purpose this time. Distracting Sorajin from a destroyed village and the massive body count.

Everything Sorajin knew -- Humans he grew up with, the chapel he helped build, even the walls he and his people guarded so jealously -- was gone.

Sorajin sighs as his clothes come off. He's rippling muscles and yellow undertones. "Do you have jaundice?" Kieve should have asked this question when he first began to realize Sorajin wasn't going to _do the Do_ with him.

The fact that he's dirty, dried mud coating his face in patches, adds to the hilarity when Sorajin deadpans. "No." He sounds like he's heard this question before. "I'm naturally this way."

"You're..." Kieve knows he ought not poke his aggravated master. But it's so easy. So entertaining. "Naturally jaundiced?"

With a glare, Sorajin slides into the tub. "Come here, you big idiot."

So he does. Carefully easing into the tub so there's only a small amount of awkward to deal with. Sorajin sits between Kieve's legs, a position they found as comfortable as they could be and looked romantic or whatever. Sorajin wanted to appease Renjin without trading anything of himself.

He's careful lathering soap into Sorajin's hair, it's funny that this guy always lets him so close but never close enough to let him in. Really.

He knows who Sorajin is - what he's like - only by watching intently.

He knows the younger man likes to look at his body. Likes to touch, but doesn't. Knows it's Human inhibition. And Kieve hates that many of the useful things he's learned come from the brothel he's been rescued from.

He _hates_ it.

"Kieve?" His Master's upper body turns to him. "Kieve, are you okay?"

He realizes that his fingers are painfully tight in Sorajin's hair. That's probably what clued him in.

Sorajin's hands come up to lightly grasp his wrists, either his hands are too small to circle them or Kieve's wrists are too large to be circled, and turns fully to face him. "You need to let it go."

At first, Kieve's response is to quickly release Sorajin's hair but the smaller man doesn't let go of his wrists. Sorajin's hands are hot. Too hot. "You need to let the past be the past," He says. He's not talking about the flashbacks. He wants Kieve to live in the now. To think of himself as more than a non-entity. Possibly, more than a Yona. "I changed what you would be called for a reason."

Kevierkets had been his name when he belonged to the House. A name that meant _Lies under men._ When he became a Yona, Sorajin insisted he be called Kieve: _Free; Uncaged_

Kieve hadn't understood it at first, thought Sorajin was mocking him.

Sorajin's lips brush against the palm of his right hand, then his left. His lips give favor to Kieve's left wrist before running the tip of his tongue up the Yona's forearm.

Kieve startles, tries to pull away. "H- hey. We both know you're not really-" Sorajin's fingers cover his lips. There's an order in his dark eyes and Kieve is really unsure if he should disengage now or care about it later.

Sorajin nips his shoulder before running his lips over Kieve's collarbone. His head tilts all the way back, baring his throat to Sorajin, but the gesture is pointedly ignored.

Teeth and tongue find his nipple and Kieve groans against the thin fingers over his mouth. He's extremely confused when Sorajin's tongue flicks over the slowly hardening nub. Because Sorajin has never really even given Kieve a hint that he wanted anything more than a Leader- Right Hand Relationship. Renjin had casually encouraged it because of Tradition. (Until he knew who they were, who his Master was, he had despised this old tradition - the Yoyen)

Sorajin's mouth trailing lower, tongue dipping into his navel leaves him falling back on familiar ways. His Master's fingertips press gently against his lips now, seeking entrance.

"Did you plan this?" He comes dangerously close to losing his voice when Sorajin runs the flat of his tongue over his hip. Over the family crest Renjin had tattooed there. His eyes meet Kieve's and the Yona knows that this inexperienced boy is going to lay him bare pretty soon.

And not in the literal sense.

Fuck, Kieve hates being unraveled.

Sorajin's nails graze lightly up and down his skin. "Do you want to continue?"

Kieve, to his shame, is hard already. In his defense, it has literally been years since he's been intimate with someone else. And the last time he _wanted_ to be intimate was longer than that.

"Kieve," Says Sorajin. "I need an answer from you. Do you want to stop?"

And Kieve wants to cry at the sheer amount of control he has. Because Sorajin isn't the type to force it.

The smaller man draws back, taking his lack of an answer as his real one.

Smart boy.

But Kieve has to admit that he wants this. His fingers tangle in Sorajin's inky black hair, the surprise across his face is kinda funny. But Kieve doesn't dwell on it. His mouth presses against the dark haired man's very gently at first, pulling him closer. His Master's thigh brushes against his erection and he nearly leaps from his skin.

He's thankful to know he isn't the only one when he feels Sorajin's arousal brush against his stomach.

He nudges Kieve's legs up and over the rim of the tub and the Yona only has so much time to wonder where this is going before his Master's tongue slides against his, teasing the barbell piercing at the end, then running his tongue along the sharp teeth that nip at his slick appendage. Kieve is sure to be slow when he wraps his fingers around the base of the smaller man's erection, even slower when he strokes upwards.

Sorajin tangles his fingers tight in Kieve's dark purple hair and moans into his mouth, hips jerking but unable to find a rhythm.

_Oh gods_ , thinks Kieve. _He's the epitome of purity._

His free hand grips Sorajin's hip, encouraging an easy cadence. He gives himself to the Yona's hands pretty quickly.

His Master is gasping for breath when he pulls away, Kieve nipping at his bottom lip.

The Tarshish likes the way he looks. "You sure you don't have jaundice?"

Sorajin is too horny to really be mad at this point, so he sticks his fingers in the older man's mouth instead.

Kieve runs his tongue over and between The younger man's fingers, sucking fervently and moaning. Sorajin gives him a dubious look. "I haven't even touched you yet."

He just smirks and lifts an eyebrow. A picture of mischief at it's best.

Sorajin rolls his eyes as he removes the piercing from Kieve's cock. The noise he chooses to make this time is an appreciative one.

"What?" Asks the younger man. The Yona draws the occupying fingers from his mouth and Sorajin's eyes follow the thin trail of spit that connects them. This makes Kieve laugh. He can't help it.

"What? What now?"

"You're so fucking virginal it's cute." At the glare he receives, he shrugs. "Don't look at me like that."

"Don't ruin the moment by laughing at me."

"Jeez. Take a cock piercing out and everything gets serious."

"What's the big deal about it anyways?" Asks Sorajin as he puts the barbell in Kieve's open hand.

"It's pleasurable for the receiver. If you want, I'll show you some time." The older man sets the piercing on a stand to the left. Sorajin's expression becomes slightly strained.

"Hey, hey," Says the Yona, pulling Sorajin onto his lap. "Don't freak out. I'm not pushing. I'm just suggesting. We didn't even have to do this."

The younger man gives him an agitated look. "I'm not six."

"I know. If you were six, I'd be explaining to you what a dick _was_. Not asking if you wanted to use mine."

Sorajin sighs through his nose. Kieve leans back against the wall of the tub, relaxing and breathing deep.

Sorajin sighs once more, fingering the privacy curtain they hadn't bothered to use. "Can we try again?"

Kieve gives him a surprised look. "Yeah. Do whatever you want." He had been expecting Sorajin to call it quits.

As the younger man moves to climb from his lap, the Yona grabs his arm. "Hold on a minute. Why don't we warm you back up first?"

At Sorajin's quizzical expression Kieve gently pulls him into a kiss. This time, the older man takes his time working their mouths open, fingers dancing down Sorajin's arms, up the soft skin of his stomach and chest, then down again and up his back.

His tongue twists at a slow pace, taking his time with Sorajin's then sliding his tongue out before pushing it back in. Sorajin shivers and tries closing his lips, but not his teeth, around it. The older man moans, slowly dragging his tongue over his master's lower lip. He rubs his knuckles up and down Sorajin's nipples, being sure to keep his tongue working the dark haired man's mouth. He has to work desperately hard at not showing his amusement when he notices one of his Master's hands sliding down to wrap around his own cock.

Kieve pulls away, the younger man's cheeks are flushed, lips parted as he pants. Not to mention his pupils are blown wide. Kieve suspects his are too as this time he's the one looking at the thin line of saliva that connects them. Sorajin ignores it in favor of his favorite word: "What?"

"Don't touch," Says Kieve, knocking Sorajin's hand away for his own hand to grip him in its place. His Master hisses, gripping his wrist with both hands when he drags his callused hand upwards in a quick, almost rough, tug. "See?" Says the Yona. "I do it better." He jerks him quick and when Sorajin seems like he's getting a better hold of himself, Kieve puts a twist in his wrist at just the right moment or gives his nipple some attention to keep the dark haired man writhing.

Sorajin's hands grip Kieve's shoulders. "S-stop!" His thighs are shaking, nails digging into Kieve's shoulders. The Yona can tell he's close but if he wants to keep the good stuff going...

Kieve's hands slide upwards to the younger man's heaving chest. He's dripping precum and his hips are still begging for friction. "Sorajin?"

His Master's pupils are blown to the point that the iris is merely a thin band of color. Between gasps, he says, "Not yet."

Kieve tilts his head slightly. "Why?"

Finally, Sorajin pulls himself together. "I wanted to try something. I won't be able to if I..." His shoulders pull together and forward just slightly, eyes sliding to the right.

"Okay," Says Kieve. "Try it."

"Anything?"

"Within reason."

Sorajin looks like he doesn't quite follow but Kieve isn't worried about it. He's not comfortable with penetration so anything along those lines is probably out of the question.

Therefore, everything left is reasonable.

Sorajin shyly slides off the older man's lap, puts his legs over the rim of the tub once more. And Kieve, achingly hard and wishing his Master would just do it already, has an idea of where this is going. Unlike before, he's thinking clearly. He has to if this is going to go the way Sorajin wants.

He lets his head drop back when his Master grips his cock. He wants to encourage the "two hands" rule but keeps his mouth shut. Sorajin strokes him firmly, slowly. His hand isn't able to fully wrap around Kieve's thick arousal.

He grips the rim of the tub when Sorajin gives him an experimental lick. Oh, this was going to go quickly.

The look in his Master's eyes as his mouth attempts to take him in leaves him trembling. He can't _not_ give advice, now. "Pull my testicles down."

At the baffled look he receives, Kieve groans. "Just do it." His back arches and he thinks he might cry a little when his orders are carried out.

But it is so _worth_ it when he's watching the younger man work him, his soft tongue working the tip, the dark haired man watching him as intently as Kieve is watching him. His Master slowly takes him in and fuck if it isn't- Kieve hisses. "Teeth. _Teeth!_ " Sorajin draws back in confusion, much to the Yona's relief.

"You _want_ me to use teeth?!"

Kieve's hands are gentle when they tangle in Sorajin's hair. "Don't bother with sucking me off," He says as kindly as he can with a frustrated libido. "I think your mouth is too small."

"Or your," Sorajin pauses, blushing brightly, "your dick is too big." 

"Probably that."

"Okay. So no deep throating."

Kieve laughs. "You wouldn't be doing that in the first place."

Sorajin sighs, a gust of air on Kieve's cock. It twitches in his grip. He kisses the head before rubbing his tongue on the underside.

"Mmhmm," Kieve hums.

Sorajin's tongue laves up from root to tip before leaving suckling kisses in various places. Kieve's left hand goes back to gripping the edge of the tub, his right hand moving restlessly so he doesn't pull Sorajin's hair. Because he wants to let the younger man figure him out, like a game.

He gives himself over.

Something he's never done for anyone. Ever.

He's panting by the time Sorajin has decided to pump him with both hands, his body providing just enough lubricant. His hips thrust to his Master's rhythm, eager to receive and keep receiving. There's sweat dripping from the tips of his hair as water slushes around in the tub. They were going to need to replace the water after this...

Sorajin between his legs, looking shyly up at him as his mouth gives a sucking kiss to the underside of his cock, along with tender presses of his knuckle to Kieve's perineum is what unravels him. He grips Sorajin's shoulder instead of his hair as his hips buck, his seed spilling out. He gasps and and quivers as he lies boneless against the tub for a moment. "Fuck."

Sorajin climbs up his body and licks his bottom lip. He pulls the younger man down for a kiss before pulling away and flipping their positions. "Your turn."

Sorajin's length is pulsing when Kieve rubs his bottom lip teasingly over the head. "If I do something you don't like, tell me."

"Right."

Kieve's flicks his tongue from root to tip, before giving slow, hard licks to the glands on the underside of Sorajin's aching shaft. The younger man's hands tangle tight in Kieve's hair again, trying to push and pull him at the same time. He nudges the rounded piece of metal in his tongue into Sorajin's slit, causing a gasp of his name and a tug of his hair. _To swallow or not to swallow_ , muses the Yona as he wraps his lips over his teeth, keeping a close eye on Sorajin as he eases his Master's cock into his mouth.

He bobs his head slowly, holding Sorajin's hips in place and taking his time to reacquaint himself with the feeling of oral sex with a man.

He lifts his Master's hips a little further out of the water and reminds himself to breathe deep when the tip rubs against the back of his tongue and hums around the shaft before releasing the dark haired man's hips to thrust.

And thrust he does, fucking Kieve's mouth while gasping and arching and begging as the Yona hollows his cheeks and rubs his barbell in all the right places. Kieve focuses on the gasps and laving his tongue as the haze of flashbacks start creeping in. But Kieve won't let it. Not yet. Not with Sorajin so close his hips are losing their cadence.

And then he's arching so hard the older man thinks he might injure himself, pushing as deep as he can into Kieve's mouth while crying out. The Yona moans in response, mouth still encouraging whatever the younger man is willing to give.

Sorajin's body trembles with aftershocks while Kieve slowly rubs his face against his stomach.

"Am I supposed to feel so tired?"  
Kieve nods before standing and draining the tub. If the water got any colder, Sorajin would probably have health problems.

Wrapping his Master in a towel is a little harder. The younger man's legs are shakey and his balance is off.

But after he's in a towel, carrying him to bed is easy. His head rests against Kieve's shoulder, eyes closed. The Yona wonders if this was a fluke. But he isn't going to ask.

It is, technically, his job to teach his Master about sex. Among a very few other things. It's his Master's job to teach him how to please him. That's it.

That's all.

Up to this point, Sorajin only had sought him out for companionship.

So was this a pity fuck?

Was Sorajin just trying to earn his trust up to this moment? Because it had worked.

Was this his way of trying to erase Kieve's bad memories? By replacing them with himself?

Kieve lies Sorajin on the bed and wraps him in a blanket before opening the window and getting dressed, stomach growling.

Time to get some food.


	15. Every Spirit Has A Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you know the truth before you're aware you know...

The first time she has this dream, there's a woman in a black bag. A big bag. One her people have used to put trash in.

Noyek thinks that the dead woman is calling out to her. Why this woman chose her, she isn't sure. But she believes every spirit has a reason.

So she walks the beach for hours, looking for that place in her dream that she and her mother discovered the body.

Noyek doesn't find her. Not the first day. Or the next. It's anxiety inducing. Knowing that this poor murdered woman wants to be found but Noyek is too stupid, too useless to find her.

The next time she has the dream, Noyek and her mother discover her, once more in a bag.

Her eyes are open.

But Noyek's mother wants to put her back. To bury her so no one else will find the dead girl.

Noyek takes more time to really look at the woman. An off-white dress, her wet hair is dark, lips that once probably spoke love to someone, are slightly thinner than those of most women, with absent green eyes. She looks much like Noyek herself.

But she's prettier than Noyek thinks she will ever be.

This time, Noyek combs the beach as though possessed. She doesn't give much thought to the part of the dream where her mother hides the body once more.

She skips meals and lessons because she knows this woman must be found. This woman needs her. Desperately. And Noyek can't waste anymore time.

Eventually, her brother, Itan volunteers to help her so she can sleep and eat, at least.

But breakfast is a horrible affair as she's forced to watch her mother give affection to a bastard.

She feels worthless, wants to die.

So she's quick to finish her meal and slip back into obscurity. Showers to wash the visions away. The pain.

But it doesn't leave.

It only helps the truth sink in as she dries with a soft, white towel. Her mother doesn't care about her anymore. Her mother thinks she's worthless, is throwing her away.

Noyek throws her soap across the room. "I'm not trash!" She shrieks. " _I'm not!_ " The outburst leaves her panting. She's so angry and hurt and confused and she wants it all to stop.

A glance to the mirror leaves her clutching her towel and gasping, trying not to scream at the top of her lungs at the image.

Noyek realizes that girl in the trashbag...  
... Is her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those of you that have come this far, is there a character you'd like to see more of? Any questions?


	16. Betrothed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Sho thought things had gone wrong before, they were out of hand now.  
> Thankfully, there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

When his mother drags him out of bed with a 'surprise', Sho wants to tell her it can wait. He hasn't slept well since Nierka's unwitting rejection.

But his lungs constrict with urgency when he tries to go back to sleep. So he reluctantly stands from his nest of blankets.

Leaving his spacious tent, the cold air caresses him with a lover's embrace. He should have dressed before greeting the crisp early morn. It's still dark outside, lightening up around the edges of the sky.

It isn't good for them to see him shivering in the cold, wearing only a pair of comfortable shorts.

His mother would learn not to wake him if it was the last thing he did. 

There's smoke rising in the center of their camp. People are crying out, but it isn't for help. Nobody is hurt because there isn't any sort of blood in the breeze.

When he gets closer, he realizes they're singing, celebrating.

Sho pauses before making himself known. His mother never mentioned a gathering like this.

There are two figures tied to poles on the other side of the bonfire. But he doesn't have time to slip back into the shadows and figure it out on his own. His mother appears beside him, taking his arm, her hawkish features both murderous and ecstatic.

As she leads him around the fire, his chilled skin warms. The snow circled around it has melted from the intensity of the heat. People either glance at him with pity or congratulate him with sly expressions.

At first, judging from the two figures and his mother's expression, he thinks they've snagged a pair of well known Full-Bloods. Maybe from the Clan under Sasayo. Perhaps they caught the battle duo and he would be forced to go through with his lie of making Sech scream.

He really hopes it's just people from Anayo's territory.

Upon closer inspection, it's a woman and a man, both Human, tied to these wooden posts.

When the woman, dark hair tangled and obstructing part of her face, looks up, he wants to run in the opposite direction. 

"Nierka?"

Bordeaux spews all sorts of threats that Sho neither understands nor pays attention to.

His mother grabs Nierka by the hair, tilting her head up and back. "I caught your Intended in bed with another man."

Sho's voice sticks in his throat. This can't be happening. His mother wasn't supposed to even remember Nierka existed, let alone catch her with-

"Mother." He struggles to find the right words, wracks his brain to figure out what he can do.

She smiles. "You can express your gratitude later." She lets go of Nierka and draws a knife, offering it hilt-first to Sho. "It's time to take back what belongs to you." What she really means is, _Kill Bordeaux and take Nierka back to your tent._

Nierka is staring at him with wide eyes. There's betrayal written across her features like he himself had tied her there.

"She isn't mine," He says, wishing it weren't true.

His mother stares at him strangely. "Didn't you tell me you were courting her in the late summer?"

"I did," Says Sho, trying to think of something that doesn't injure his image or Bordeaux. Or get Nierka killed as a sort of vengeance. "But I went to lay with her and discovered she'd already been with a man." Careful to add an apathetic roll to his shoulders, he looks casually towards the bonfire. "I have no taste for whores."

He can practically feel Nierka's hurt. "I _never_ slept-"

He's quick to turn towards her. "That's enough, Megan." She flinches like he's just hit her. And while he had thought about it before, he regrets it now. He regrets it enough that he wants to grovel and beg forgiveness.

But he can't right now. And she might not forgive him even if he found the opportunity.

When he moves to cut Nierka- Megan free, he notices a small patch of blood-covered snow.

"Mother," He asks, "What did you do?" He can hear all the things he shouldn't be feeling in his own voice. Megan cranes her neck to look at him.

She shrugs, nonchalant. "The man she was laying with said the ring on her finger was evidence that she didn't belong to you."

His stomach drops out. Part of him wants to go ahead and kill Bordeaux for his mistake. He was her Husband. How dare he cause anything that would get Megan hurt?

His gaze turns back to the ropes and he's left with the painful realization that this is his failure. Not Bordeaux's.

"Sho, one day everything on this island will be yours."

_Everything_ , He thinks, _but Megan_.

"We'll find you a harem of Human women to suit your tastes in the meantime." His mother tries to console him. "She would have made a horrible Yona anyways."

Sho pauses at this. "Yona?"

His mother sighs, gusty and all drama. "What? Did you think I was going to let you destroy your father's blood after I worked so hard to attain it?" Yes, Sho had, actually. "I would have betrothed you to a woman of our kind eventually, my child."

Sho would never have been able to give Megan the life he thought she deserved, he realizes. Still deserves.

So he cuts them free. Lets Bordeaux punch him. But only twice, then makes his mother give Megan back her ring. It's not fancy. But it's pretty. Simple.

Like Nierka.

He walks them back to the village, insisting he do it alone, in silence. Nierka's hands, missing a ring finger, stay clenched at her sides while she stews and boils in her anger.

Apologizing isn't going to make things better. They're within a hundred yards of the village gate when Megan stops. Sho stops, too, unsure if he should keep his back to her or look her in the face.

"I can't believe you called me that!" Her voice cracks. From the corner of his eye, he can see Bordeaux getting ready to lunge. "Do you really think of me that way?"

Sho turns to look at her, hoping he won't have to say it. Tears are running down her face, skin inflamed and red. Her teeth are bared and, at first, Sho thinks it's aggression. Then, he thinks about the other Humans he's seen make that face.

Anguish.

Sho had cut her deeply with his words. So he shakes his head. "I lied so mother would let you go."

Her nostrils, tiny things, Sho wonders how she can breathe through them, are still flared. But her lips close. He hopes her pain has been lessened some.

Then he steps back, out of her way to happiness and a family.

She looks at him and he looks at her.

Finally, with a hitching breath, he manages, "Goodbye, Nierka."

There's a mixture of emotions he detects in her eyes, body and voice when she replies, "Goodbye, Sho."

She doesn't look back.

But he never takes his eyes off of her until the gates close.

xXx

It's late spring before Sho stops being heartsick.

His mother gives him all sorts of remedies, hoping to cure what she believes is a physical malady, because a Full-Blood male would never be emotionally ill over a girl he neither cared for nor had sex with.

And while he isn't heartsick, it's still hard getting out of bed. It's exhausting to even do small amounts of training.

It frustrates him, he has always been able to push through his emotions before. But the sun is too bright, people are too happy, and his bed is too comfortable.

His mother crouches beside, leans over him and sighs. "Get up. Come to dine." He grunts and she stands. "Make sure to look nice."

This piques his curiosity. But she's gone before he can ask. 

When he enters, there are three new people sitting at the table.

One of them is a leader of another Clan. Sho thinks his name is Tand.

He sits beside Sho's mother. Beside him is a woman with a scarf that covers not only her neck, but her hair, too. Her nose is pierced and there's a thin, golden chain that attached to the piercing that also attaches to the Mokk'et, behind the shell of her ear.

Ranka. Her name is Ranka.  
When her golden brown eyes meet his, she quirks a brow at him, lips tilting up.

"He doesn't look like much," Says the man on the other side of Ranka. His gloves have a golden pattern on them. This is her elder brother, the gold cloth wrapped around his wrist proof of already having married a woman, he shouldn't be here.

"He hasn't been well since mid winter."

Tand looks at Sho's mother. "That is a long time to be ill."

"The time he was sick before this was when he was twelve Winters and worked in a heavy storm all day. And that was only for a week." She's embellished that story quite a bit. But he has no choice than to let her.

Tand looks Sho over very carefully. "His father?"

"Good blood. Poached from the Pride." His mother beams at her achievement.

At this, Tand quirks a brow. "Don't tell me you mated with Sasayo. He might be the leader, but he's still too scrawny."

"No. I wouldn't have said he had good blood if that was the case."

Sho resists a sigh. She actually would have if she knew she could get away with it.

"So then, did you get it from the Man Slayer, himself?"

His mother laughs. "Sleeping with Chiikets would have been like taunting a poisonous snake. I'm not that bold."

Sho isn't sure why. It would have been an opportunity to merge Clans and take over. "Suffice to say, Chante is unable to turn down an offer when it's presented." Sho feels like now is a good opportunity to do one of those "spit takes" Nierka- Megan used to talk about. Because his mother had been infuriatingly vague about who his father had been.

There's a long pause. "Is Chante aware?" He's afraid to even breathe at the answer.

His mother shrugs. "It's possible."

Sho wants to bang his head on a wall. The only way Chante would know was to meet him. The parents always knew their children, even if never meeting them, by just looking at them.

He'd take one look at Sho and he would know.

Now Sho doesn't want to stay still, he doesn't want to stay in his seat. He wants to find Chante. Wants Chante to look at him. But his mother's gaze, when he meets it, keeps him effectively pinned.

"His blood isn't really-"

"It's better than many other's, isn't it?" His mother turns back to Tand. "He's quite virile, after all." There's an ' _unlike you_ ' implicated in her tone and Sho wonders if that was on purpose. Tand didn't have the blood most of their kind looked for. He was a little on the short side, lacking an athletic build. Meaning even though he took care of himself, his body didn't naturally or easily become muscular. His shoulders aren't as broad.

Sho is surprised that he has so many children.

His son looks like he has received his mother's good blood.

Ranka does too.

But it's a little insulting that their father is so intent on good blood when he hasn't much of it.

A foot nudges against his. An accident probably. He continues to listen to their parents make wedding arrangements. The foot slides up his calf and he jumps, nearly knocking his glass of Sahkmeh over.

He looks at the brother, who looks at him with narrow, critical eyes and knows that is almost an impossibility.

His gaze then jumps to Ranka. He waits and, eventually, her eyes flick to his.

Her eyes dart downwards, to the table - under the table - for a split second then bounce back up to his, her face is resting on her fist, elbow on the table, hiding a sly quirk of lips from everyone but him.

_Well_ , Thinks Sho, _at least she's interesting._


	17. From A Child To A Leader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasayo, as he sups with his family and deals with the drama of his daughter's engagement, reflects on the things he can't ignore.

Chikotsu is quiet when he approaches Sasayo, Sech behind him. "Father."

Sasayo tips his head up in a nod of acknowledgment.

They remain at least five feet from him, a respectful distance.

He misses the days that they were young, the days when they would climb into his lap without a care for respect or personal space. But they are old enough to be a danger to him, now.

And while he's proud that Chikotsu has enough strength and maturity to become the new patriarch when everything is in place, that Sech has the cunning and loyalty to make a good Second, he already hates having to watch his back.

Being alone with the two of them is slightly suicidal.

"Would you come to evenin' meal with us?"

Ah, but even in their maturity, they are still children seeking attention. It touches somewhere deep inside of him, convinces him to lower his guard. This was how it was before King Sonere. And he understands why the man wanted to change things.

Sech shuffles his feet, always unable to keep still. But Chikotsu is statue-like in his patience. A reverse of Chiikets and Kajmir.

He wonders if Shiseken has noticed.

He turns to face them now, to look at them in the waning light. And, at first glance, he sees Chiikets and Kajmir. Then he sees the boys.

Chikotsu tries to look like it wouldn't bother him if he said no. Sech smiles like he already has the answer.

These boys are mirrors of their blood fathers.

But he won't let them be tarnished like the men before them.

Like himself.

He smiles. "Let's go before your mothers worry." They step out of his way and he leads them down the tall hill. His worries over the coming storm can wait.

The rest of the Clan sits around a large fire, enjoying the cool evening. He watches his own son, Kaiton, give a scathing glance to the two boys behind him.

If Kaiton had been a little older, a little more mature, Sasayo would have gladly trained him to be the next leader.

And while every child is trained to integrate into a Clan or begin their own, the oldest are trained more extensively. They are trained to inherit.

When the children realize he's there, he's greeted with a chorus of, "Good evening, Father!" Even by Kendai, who has a father. The women, and Kendai's father, each look up to greet him.

They migrate inside, sitting around a table. He counts heads, making sure no one has been left outside before he settles beside Kajiim, Kaiton next to her and his daughter, Niiniai, next to him.

"Good evening, Father," Says Kajiim with a smirk.

He smirks back. "Did you cook, Mother?"

Her eyes roll and he laughs. Kajiim is able to cook without catching anything on fire, but only _just_. So she doesn't cook.

Sasayo makes fun of her. And she teases him about everyone calling him _Father_

Life is good.

Shiseken, raises her hand tentatively. Even though it's been years since her demotion, people still quiet and look at her expectantly.

Chikotsu and Kendai look at her with something like wonder, curious as to why she has so much pull.

Sasayo wonders why she never tells them.

"Since we're all here, I think it would be good to discuss Niiniai's marriage arrangements."

That had been a topic he has tried to keep everyone away from. A marriage to Itan was fortuitous. There was only one, major catch.

"She's marrying into the Toko family." To be fair, a lot of people had mixed feelings about it. Even Sasayo, himself.

But Niiniai needed to be married off soon. And, preferably, to the father of her child.

There's a long silence, some of the children have learned their parent's feelings over it. Those children scowl. Chikotsu watches without turning his head, gauging their reactions while carefully neutral.

"Why?" Kiren asks. "Isn't he a Half Breed?"

Whispering and murmuring erupt around the table. They throw all sorts of glances at Niiniai.

"Did he blackmail you?" Asks someone at the other end.

"Did he lie to you about what he was?" Asks someone on the right.

"I bet he didn't even tell her he was one of them!"

"They're awfully deceitful."

Niiniai shakes her head. "It isn't so!"

They turn to look a her. No one speaks for nearly a minute.

"Did he rape you?" Asks Sech. "I heard he got a little _forceful_ with another girl."

The rest of the Clan isn't whispering now. Many of them have risen to their feet. Some of them stand over Sasayo, bombarding him.

"You're handing your daughter off to a rapist?"

"And a Toko?"

"How could you do something like that?"

"I don't even think Tarshish would do something like this!"

"Enough," Sasayo says as the hysteria begins to wear away his patience.

"What does this mean for our daughters?"

"And your sons! What about your sons?" Chimes a voice that could only belong to Sech.

The chaos kicks up a notch with demands that he rise to his feet so he may be challenged and exiled, terrified questions over the well-being of their children, and a familiar voice stirring the pot.

Sasayo's slams his palm onto the table. "I said that was _enough!_!" His last word has a roar trying to break through it.

The Clan drops into silence.

"Thank you," He says. His blood is rushing in his ears. The smell of fear and anger and someone teetering on the edge of violence clogs his nose. He makes eye contact with each of them, children included. Sech is smiling innocently. Chikotsu won't make eye contact. He's watching Sech.

Sasayo has always thought it would be Chikotsu who would attack and overthrow him, the older boy has always met their expectations of aggression.

But it's in this moment that he thinks it will be Kajmir's blood that will stab him in the back and step on his throat while he's already gasping for air.

He shouldn't be able to see his own death in that boy's eyes, but Sasayo is pretty sure it's there.

Which makes him wonder if Chikotsu will be stabbed in the back, too.

He should wring the boy's neck while he can still get away with it, mate with his mother before to soften her up to him so she feels conflicted instead of pure hatred.

He knows he could never actually do such a thing. He has raised Sech. Killing him would be like murdering Kaiton. "You told me that you trusted me when you put me in a position over you. Now you suddenly don't?" Guilt crosses the features of a few. "Come now, you lost faith in me because I allowed my daughter to do as she pleases? I never said I agreed with it."

"Then why are you allowing it?" Asheer cuts in. Of course Asheer would cut in.

Sasayo breathes deep and clenches his teeth for a moment. "Because it is the right thing to do."

There's silence as they try to pinpoint what he's casually leaving out. They won't know for a few months yet. Niiniai had begged him not to tell. Kajiim had thinned her lips in disapproval but kept them shut. They were especially careful not to tell Kaiton.

His eyes meet Shiseken's. She has stayed seated, spine straight, shoulders back. She is still a fine woman. Wide hips, dark eyes, and pert breasts. Childbearing has made her attributes better. And she watches him like she once watched other males.

She doesn't trust him.

And he can't blame her. Every time they tangle with that family, bad things happen.

But their family has done bad things to other families, too and he can't deny it.

"I want an explanation," Says Asheer.

He musters his most stern expression, prepared to give the "What I say, goes" speech in only the second time in his life.

"Don't waste his time, Asheer," Shiseken's voice has only gotten deeper over the years. Sometimes, he forgets she is no longer the Chosen matriarch. He thinks she probably forgets, too. "He feels this is a wise choice, let him make it. It will be good reason to go to war and wipe them out once and for all."

Sasayo gives Shiseken his darkest look. "There will be no war."

She stares back at him. "When he does harm to Niiniai, we will rally to your aid."

Niiniai stands. "Stop it. You can't insult him just because you're old and bitter. He has never lain a hand on me!"

"That is because you aren't bound to him yet." Shiseken, sounds as though she has been through this conversation before.

Niiniai settles for glaring daggers at Shiseken.

Sasayo is so frustrated, he bites his lip until it bleeds.

He looks to Kajiim, who doesn't seem like she's made up her mind one way or the other.

"I think," She says, "that this topic is best left alone for now. We will not know to be ready for war until it's time." Kajiim and Shiseken stare each other down for a long time, unblinking.

Finally, Shiseken blinks and looks away. She knows better than to come to blows with the Chosen. Sasayo feels like he can breathe easier now.

Now that it is temporarily solved, everyone settles back into their spots.

It doesn't hit him until a few minutes later that he narrowly avoided being exiled. Thrown out. Even killed. His eyes meet Shiseken's again. She doesn't like it. But she doesn't seem want him taken down over this. His eyes meet Chikotsu's. He has plenty of questions. Then his eyes go to Kaiton, who was more than ready to go to war a few minutes ago. His son has high aggression. And while it's a relief, it's almost as scary as the idea that Chikotsu will eventually lose himself until he's either killed or overthrown Sasayo, that ever lingering danger of raising another's cubs.

Eventually, Chikotsu and Kaiton will come to blows.

Sasayo doesn't want to be around to face the winner.

"We went out to catch frogs today," Says the youngest child of the group, Nightshade.

Sasayo pushes these thoughts away. "Did you?"

"No," She says. "They're too slippery." Her face is sweet, features soft and her two front teeth are missing. A strange trait of Human children.

He finds it endearing, nonetheless. "Maybe next time?"

She smiles. "Maybe."

The rest of the meal goes like that, youngest to oldest, the children tell him of their accomplishments or failures. He either rewards or encourages.

This is the best part of his job, being the Father and not the Leader or the Disciplinarian. Not the Mate or the Warrior.

These children respect him, but don't distance themselves from him out of fear.

Chikotsu isn't afraid of him, but what he, himself, will become. What he will have to do.

And, so is Sasayo.


	18. Lying by Omission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anayo's week is full of surprises.

Anayo is gasping, gripping the porcelain of the sink with white knuckles.

This isn't him. Is it?

This Full-Blood in the mirror?

His hair is too long, eyes too dark. When was the last time he slept?

He doesn't know.

Hyon eases into the washroom, the lines of her face spelling concern. "Anayo?"

Her eyes are so dark he can barely distinguish her iris from her pupil. "Hyon."

Her fingers begin to rub deep into the muscles on his lower back. "I'm here. I'm not going away."

_Neither am I_ , Whispers a familiar voice in the back of his skull. He thinks he might vomit. Hyon lies her head against his back. "We should leave this place. We can go explore the world. Start new."

It sounds beautiful. It sounds like he might need it.

He can't go.

The tattoo over his left pectoral itches in a way he can't scratch, burns in a way he can't soothe, when he thinks about giving up his goal of razing this fucking island to the ground.

Hyon wraps her arms around his waist. "I need you to know I'm pregnant."

His whole world seems to, to tilt? Bottom out? Is he fainting? He feels dizzy. Lightheaded.

This is wonderful. Horrible. Amazing and, at the same time, enough for him to want to tear his eyes out.

"No." He feels claustrophobic and free. Nauseated and yet extremely well.

"No?" Asks Hyon.

He turns to look her in the face, his hands clasp her shoulders. "You can't be pregnant."

Her crestfallen look makes him feel a little guilty. "I finally have something that will earn respect from your family and you don't want me to have it?"

His fingers twitch. That voice starts clawing at his mind. Telling him she needs to be punished for any sort of disobedience.

But Hyon has never been anything but good. Enduring the hunting from his Mother and abuse from his Father and their Clan.

Now his Mother is chained in the dungeons below, his Father is dead. The rest of the Clan will stop tormenting her.

He and Hyon have worked side by side to lead this kingdom.

Hurting her hurts him.

Hyon's eyes fill with tears but she doesn't let them fall. "Please."

He turns away, trying to decide what he should do.

But this is hurting her. And hurting her hurts him. "Okay." He meets her wide, shimmering eyes in the mirror. "We can have a cub."

Grateful, she clings to him like a second skin.

He would make it safe for their child. Wipe the island clean of anyone that could do it harm.

Which means, eventually, even himself.

His vision begins to haze and, as much as he tries, control of himself slips out of his hands. He isn't sure where it goes.

Days pass as he continues his crusades of the island. He is able to take down only a few Packs at a time, stomp out the slowly growing embers.

While chasing down a few Females that have decided to run rather than fight, he stumbles, literally, upon a young man napping in the deep shade of a tree.

The boy hisses. "Watch it! If you break my ankle, I'll kick your ass with my good one!"

The Females he'd been hunting are long gone. But they are of no concern to him now. He grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt, holds him up off the ground a little. "Just whom do you think you're speaking to?"

The boy scowls and Anayo instantly knows his face. Even though he's never seen this petulant child.

"A dick cake," Says the boy.

Anayo puts him down. "Spent some time with the Humans, have you?"

The boy pretends to brush dirt off his shoulders. "My mother was Human."

Anayo laughs so hard he thinks his lungs might burst. When he calms down he looks to the perplexed boy. "What's your name?"

"Ma'hale."

Anayo feels a headache coming on. " _Soft Light?_ I suppose your mother was Human, giving you a pathetic name like that."

"Stop talking like you know her."

Anayo leans in, nose to nose with the boy, pinning him against the tree. "Oh, but I do."

"She's dead." Familiar green eyes bore into his.

"The woman that raised you is. But not the woman that gave you life in the first place."

Ma'hale pushes him, hard enough to make him draw back. "Stop. Just because I'm a Half-Breed, doesn't mean you can fuck with my head."

Anayo rolls his eyes. "Did your mother ever describe the man she was with? What happened to him?"

Ma'hale shakes his head.

"Did she have anything from him? Half-Breeds don't come about by a one time slip. For you to exist, she had to have cared enough to want a relationship of some sort with him."

Ma'hale looks like he's getting it. Finally.

"Even if he was visiting every now and again, he would have left her something that belonged to him. So that if she sought him out, people would know who she was looking for."

Ma'hale is silent. Looking lost and confused. "I don't understand. Why would she lie?"

Anayo lets the boy stew in his raging emotions for a few moments more. "It is likely," He takes care to take his time. To draw it out, "that she chose to hide it so she could hide you."

Ma'hale looks up sharply. "Hide me? From what?"

Anayo runs his tongue along his top teeth. Should he divulge? He could use either angle for his purposes. But only one would do the best for him.

"From your parents. They could be a great danger to you. Especially your father."

Ma'hale tilts his head. "Why would he pose a danger?"

Anayo shrugs. "Some of us enjoy eating our young, so to speak."

Ma'hale shivers. "You said you knew my mother?"

"Very well."

"How?"

"Because I am your father."

The color drains from the young man's face, his eyes go wide. They dart this way and that, looking for an escape.

Anayo lets him contemplate it for a moment. "And I have been looking for you after your mother left."

"Left?"

Anayo is careful to look sorrowful, open. "Yes. She left before I knew you existed. I wish she would have left you with me instead of abandoning you."

"Maybe she died giving birth? Surely she didn't want to leave me."

He drops his shoulders, calculates how low they have to go to be convincing. "I'm sorry to say she's living." _She didn't want you_ , He's careful to imply.

There's hurt, betrayal, anger, grief. Yes, Anayo can work with these emotions he's created in the boy.

"Take me to see her."

Anayo folds his arms, to cross them is a Human gesture. "I wish it were that simple." Anayo looks away, draws his eyebrows together just so. "She doesn't want me anymore, either." Perhaps, weaving the boy around his fingers is a little cruel. This is his son, after all.

_The only thing you're_ really _doing is omitting a few unimportant details_ , The voice in the back of his head purrs.

He offers his hand to Ma'hale. "Come with me and let me teach you about who you are."

Ma'hale frowns, shifting from foot to foot. "When I've learned, will you help me meet my mother?"

"I promise." This was a promise he fully intended to keep.

xXx

Hyon adores him, says she loves the idea of another set of hands to help with the baby. The look Anayo gives Ma'hale when the boy starts to protest silences him.

They then fetch him a Yona.

The young Tarshish by the name of Mercy. And while Anayo finds him odd, he knows a good offer when he sees one.

Mercy has battle experience. He's expensive and he knows it. Anayo has plucked him right out of the hand of some noble that had paid for everything from Mercy's bloodline to his training.

Anayo thinks it serves the old man right to breed a lover in the stead of finding an existing one.

Ma'hale is disturbed at first. "I can't encourage slavery. It's wrong."

Mercy snorts, it's so practiced to sound polite that it - strangely - does. "Cut the crap," He says. "You got me out of laying under some old naresuane that couldn't even get it up. Be happy. Smile a little." He leans back in his chair, throws his left arm over the back of it and crosses his right ankle over his knee. This bad attitude he has is a facade, Anayo notes. He wonders if this is the boy in the natural or it's been trained into him.

Hyon smacks him with a scroll. "There will be no foul language in this house!"

Mercy scowls but still cowers slightly to show that he gets it.

Anayo wonders if Ma'hale will learn a thing or two from the Yona.

And he isn't talking about swearing. 


	19. Promises Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chikotsu is drawn to trouble. And now he's surrounded in it.  
> He just doesn't know it yet.

It's during a raid on an illegal brothel that Chikotsu encounters Iris.

She stands in the doorway of what Chikotsu guesses is a serving room, watching him watch her. "Have you come to free us or kill us?"

"We can't murder people who have had no other life but this. The proprietors have ta die. They knew we don't like sex traffickin' in our territory."

Her hands wrap lightly around the door's metal frame. "And where can we go when we are free? What will we do?"

He takes a slow step forward, watching the way the thick ringlets that make up her hair move when she steps back. "Where you belong. Tarshish go back to their people in the cliffs. Full-Bloods are temporarily given to trustworthy families for rehabilitation."

The Tarshish thins her lips. "And the Half-Breeds?"

"They can go wherever they want."

She stares at him, lips parted.

"But you're not a Half-Breed," He says.

Her lashes lower. He's entranced by how long they are. "I want you." It slips out, unbidden. At the struck, anxious look on her face when her eyes meet his, he says, "I want ya to come with me."

She looks down and to the left. He licks his dry, chapped lips. The wind had been rough on them during their expedition. "I promise to be good to you."

She gives him a sideways glance, clearly not ready to call him a liar.

But she was certainly thinking it.

"At least let me try ta prove it."

She runs a hand over her light blue hair. "I will never have sex with you."

He nods. He doesn't like it, but he doesn't want to let her go.

"I want to share my language with you."

"I learn quickly."

When she huffs softly, he can practically hear the, _I bet you do._

"I will not be your Yona."

This is the one he agrees with. "You'll be free ta leave if things don't work out."

"You can't sell me to a brothel."

"I never even thought of it."

She stares at him, her irises are grey-blue, incredulous and frustrated. " _What d'you want from me?!_ "

There's only one word he can think of in response: "Everything."

When he extends his hand to her, she's reluctant to take it. He escorts her back to her room so she can gather her things.

"I can't bear you children."

" 'Specially since you're not havin' sex with me." He lets out a little more snark than intended.

She looks at him, unable to fathom his intentions.

"Your mother won't like me."

"And I don't like her choice in lovers, either. So she and I'll be even."

The Tarshish throws a garment at him, it lands over his face. The garment is soft, and he notes the white silk with gold accents when he pulls it from his head. "Looks like you've been livin' an expensive life."

She huffs again. "When you make up to two hundred quint a night, you can afford it."

"I'll bet some nights you don't make anythin'."

"Not with the other women trying to make a living, stealing customers."

"I can't promise this kind of expense. But I can promise that you'll never go hungry. That no one will hurt you again. That you will always have clothes to wear and a bed to sleep in." His gaze doesn't waver while he speaks. He wants her to know that he wants her in spite of the fact that she's Tarshish. In spite of the fact that she's lived a long time this way.

"I can't repay you."

"No," He says. "You can't." _But I'm not asking you to_ , Hangs in the air between them.

xXx

The rest of the family is silent when they regroup and Chikotsu isn't alone.

Sech looks her up and down before smiling in a way that isn't entirely friendly. "I didn't think you had a thing for handsomely paid women." _Whore_ , is actually what Sech means.

And while he could be offended at the blond's snide comment, Sech's dislike for the people in brothels is more of a reflection on what he feels about himself.

And Sech is practically his brother.

He throws her things at the other man. "Now you get to be the pack animal."

xXx

When she stands naked before Sasayo and Chikotsu, the latter man feels guilty.

She's endured some sort of torture. There's scarring from flogging, small burns, and more scarring over her lower abdomen.

He's pretty sure the scarring is from surgery.

Sasayo doesn't have an inkling of doubt as to what it is. "How many times?"

"Twice. The second one nearly killed me."

Chikotsu doesn't quite follow the implications. But Sasayo's expression becomes grim. "Did you ask for them?"

Her arms wrap across her midsection, shoulders coming up to her ears. "No."

"Was the last successful?"

She meets his eyes, tears are running down her face like rivers. Chikotsu wants to assure her that she's safe now. That these promises he's made, he will keep. She takes a deep breath. "Yes. But there are consequences."

"The sign of your womanhood?" She looks away. "I'm sorry to hear that." His tone is soft, empathetic.

"They took out your womb?" Asks Chikotsu, drawing himself up to his full height in outrage and anger. "Why would they-"

"It's not her womb, son." Chikotsu is still baffled. But Sasayo shakes his head. "You will understand soon." But he isn't ready to let his son be aware of just how dark the world is. Not yet.

He is slow when he removes his gloves, tightening the carefully wrapped Jiira on his right wrist.

Checking her hearing and vision is simple enough, her throat a little more difficult.

"Okay?" He asks. She nods.

His hand hovers over her bare skin for a moment before gently coming into contact with her. She still flinches, but there's enough warning there that she isn't flighty.

Chikotsu takes in her slender throat, barely existent breasts, and the average cradle of her hips. She's voluptuous for her kind, shapeless for his.

But she is, for reasons he can't articulate, attractive to him.

"What's your name, Tarshish?"

"Iris."

"That's very..." Sasayo searches for a word.

"Human," Says Iris. "A Human friend of mine gave it to me because she couldn't pronounce what everyone else called me. My Master and clients were never given this name."

xXx

Chikotsu can't help but feel pleased when she sits next to him at evening meal. He twirls his eating utensil, a long, thin wooden stick with a sharp end, around in his fingers.

Sech sits on his left, eyeing him with incredulity. "If you hit me with that, I'm going to be pissed."

"Maybe I should," Snarks Chikotsu.

Sech rolls his eyes and picks up his own eating utensil, carefully placed on the plate before him.

With a sly smile at Iris, Chikotsu goes to hit Sech with the blunt end, the blond blocks and goes to poke the redhead in the side only to be parried.

Denii, the blond's mother, sits to Sech's left and gives them both a scathing glance. "None of that at the table."

"Yes, mother," They say in unison. She makes the same face Sech does when he feels someone is being immature.

xXx

The evening ends on a pleasant note. Chikotsu takes Iris back to the room he and Sech share in the massive cabin built by his father and the Clan long before his birth.

Sech won't be back for another hour or two, spending time with his mother and sister.

He pulls off his clothes and she watches him, muscles strung tight.

"What is it?"

"I said I wasn't going to have sex with you."

"And I said okay." She gives him a wary glance. "I get too hot in sleepin' attire, too cold without the blanket. Sleepin' in the natural is relaxing for me."

She's still scowling. He lays down. "Please come here." She's reluctant but does as asked. The bed is spacious enough that they can lie side by side with a few inches between them. He is sure to stay on his side with his back to her. He wants her to be used to his presence, but has no intention of being invasive.

xXx

Weeks go by this way, he leaves with Sech when his Pack goes to battle, raid or hunt, then comes home, always surprised she's still there.

She never wears her silks, only the same clothing of animal skin or skillfully woven fabric he does.

Her feet are too soft to travel the same paths he does without foot coverings, so he brings those to her as well.

When her clothes are worn, he teaches her to patch them.

Kendai, Chikotsu's sister, teaches her to make them.

Sech and his sister, Omel teach her things, too. Like cooking and hunting, and anything they can without the older members of their Clan finding out.

And then one day, she wakes up, her back pressed lightly against his, and realizes what they're planning for her.

She knows she should run. Tell him it's over and apologize that all of his effort was for naught.

But where could she really go?

Back to her people? She doubts any of her kind would marry a barren non-virgin.

The other Full-Bloods would kill her. Or worse. No, she ought not take those chances.

The Humans were a possibility. But they would likely yield results that were little better than trying her luck with the Full-Bloods, considering how often Humans were raided by them.

Chikotsu shifts a little more. His warmth is nearly stifling. His touch almost intense.

And yet she doesn't move.

She has been fending for herself - in her own way - for a long time. And she loathes to admit it, but she likes the fact that Chikotsu clothes her. That he ensures she's fed and allows no one to harm her.

That he takes care of her.

Any Tarshish she could say that to, would go to war, gladly, with Chikotsu's family.

And she would be hung.

He shifts again, rolling over. She scoots forward to give him room. He sighs, a warm, damp breath against her neck and shoulders.

"Are you really going to just stare at the back of my head?"

"It's pretty. I've never seen hair like yours."

She rolls over to face him and can't help watching his slitted pupils expand. It isn't the first time she's garnered that physical reaction. But it is the first time she gets butterflies over it.

It increases when she realizes his gaze flutters over her face. It doesn't rake, or penetrate. He doesn't look at her bare throat or the blanket that has been pulled low in her sleep.

He's looking at her lips, the soft skin of her brow, following wisps of her hair that are in her face, stuck to her cheek from sleeping on it. "You actually like me."

His lashes flutter, his surprise is accentuated by lines, the color of his hair, under his eyes. "What?"

"You do," She whispers.

He shrugs with the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Yeah. I do." He meets her eyes, pupils expanding just a touch more. They could nearly pass for those of a Human's. "I wouldn't promise to care for you if I hadn't meant it."

"What if I can't love you?"

"I'm not askin' ya to."

They lay there for a little while longer. Iris isn't sure if it's only for a few seconds or several minutes. There's stubble growing on his jaw, strands of his hair have fallen into his face, a few of them cross his eyelashes.

He smiles. "Like what you see?"

She huffs and smiles back. "Hardly. Your face is too busy. All those freckles and the tattoos, plus that mouth of yours. It's too distracting."

He leans in a little and she leans back. "No way, Morning Breath." Her tone is playful, her eyes anything but.

She rises slowly, the blanket falling into her lap and exposing her pert flesh. The peaks of her bosom are a little darker than he always expects them to be.

"They're fake, you know."

He feels guilty for looking. "Did they make 'em smaller?" He's pretty sure they wouldn't even fill the palm of a Human, let alone his own.

He still doesn't know why he wants her so badly.

She sighs. "Bigger."

"So, do Tarshish women not have breasts?" It slips out by accident, his own reaction to his words - A grimace. A flinch back - is obvious that he didn't mean it as an insult.

She hits him with her pillow. "Not really. Not til we have Little Sparrows to take care of."

"Sparrows?"

"The Humans," She says, "they call our children Sparrows. Have since the Old Ones." She stands as he pulls the pillow from his face.

"Did you want a Sparrow?"

She pauses, the pale skin of her back to him. "I did." Her voice is a whisper. "But I will never be able to have any for myself." She sounds resigned, open.

And he realizes they've finally found something he can't give to her.

When she's dressed and gone, Sech rolls over. "You picked a bad egg, brother of mine."

"We never could have had any Sparrows anyway. It's like a minnow and a snake tryin' to reproduce. It just doesn't happen."

Sech cracks open an eye. "Admit it. You're disappointed."

"A little. But I knew what I was signin' up for the moment I decided to bring her home."

Sech fully looks at him, laying on his stomach and angled towards Chikotsu. "You should know, people are talking. That mother of yours is far from happy."

"And I'm far from happy that she's sleepin' with Aseir."

Sech is giving him one of those calculating looks that means he's not about to like what's being said. "She's Tarshish."

_That's all?_ Thinks Chikotsu. "Yeah."

"Which means she has one of those weird inclinations that Fall-Backs have."

Chikotsu knows he's giving Sech a funny look.

"She's playing you, Red. Been playing you from the start."

Chikotsu can feel his hackles rising, it's an effort not to bare his teeth to his brother. "No."

"See how you're reacting? That's probably a symptom of the charm. She went with you - wasn't afraid of you, because she knew you wouldn't hurt her."

"Sech. That's enough."

"She's getting a free ride. And what do you get? Nothing. You get nothing, Chikotsu. Just used - strung along and heartsickness."

Chikotsu isn't sure if Sech is being genuine or sees something he himself could get out of it. Sech has his moments where everyone is easy pickings, his only ally is himself, and Chikotsu is simply just another easy mark.

But Chikotsu puts up with it. Maybe because Sech is his closest friend. Maybe because it makes him feel better about himself and pity Sech.

He sighs, stands and pulls on his pants and gloves before leaving.

xXx

"I would like you to marry me."

She blinks at him like the big birds of prey they have around. Her lips form the words but nothing comes out.

"I know it's probably odd to you. But, I think that maybe you aren't opposed to it."

Several minutes pass and he starts to feel like he's a cub again, under the gaze of his father and unsure of what to do with himself.  
A small, delicate hand with long fingers lightly touches his. "Okay," She says.

Sasayo frowns when Chikotsu brings Iris and the dark purple Jiira to him. Their ceremony is practically in secret. Their wrists, his right, her left are bound together with separate ends of the long fabric.

Knife paused to cut the thin strip in the middle, he asks, "Are you sure?"

The look in Chikotsu's eyes when they meet Sasayo's strikes the older man like lightning. Iris is composed. She's sure, but she doesn't look all in.

Chikotsu loves this Tarshish, this scrap of skin and bones. 

So he cuts it. Secures the loose ends tightly so they don't unravel. If they unravel within the week, the marriage is, according to old superstitions, doomed.

While he isn't superstitious, others in the Clan are. And they will have to go through hell and high water, the last thing they need is a superstition hanging over their heads.

The marriage is doomed anyway. He doesn't think he can stop the Females of his group from killing her in blind fury.

Especially Shiseken.

Sasayo bids them to leave for a week, to take Sech, but to give him no word of what was going on. He sends them to an old safe house once used by Humans.

Sech takes up a room on the furthest part of the safe house.

He doesn't know why everyone is even bothering. It isn't as though his wife will make love to him. No. She will do little more than stand nude before him when it's required of her for some reason or other. Rarely kisses him or touches his hand. And maybe Sech is right.

Maybe this woman has charmed him.

When she comes to him that afternoon, dressed in her fine silk, he can't stay suspicious. She's beautiful. Breathtaking and sweet.

When she stands within a foot of him, looks up at him, it's all he can do not to take her into his arms and profess his love. He wants to worship every piece of her. Wants to consummate the bond and let himself be devoured. If that is what she wants to do to him, he is more than happy about it.

But she steps away before he can touch her, before he can bare himself for her to either kiss gently or sink her teeth into viciously.

His disappointment must have shown in his eyes, her hands come up slowly, rest against his face. The softness of her eyes is an apology.

He doesn't need her love to live. But he doesn't want to live without it.


	20. The Truth We Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorajin and Kieve meet another pair.  
> Takka and Renjin have a discussion.

Sorajin is, for lack of a better word, frustrated.

The massive buck he and Kieve have been hunting all day, has been finished off by another. 

A Tarshish, no less.

He's thin, a fedora on his head covers his grass green hair that still sticks out in some places, bangles on his wrists jingle when his hands move. And he's smiling at them when they come into the clearing.

He doesn't actually care about the deer. "I see you've found us." His voice grates on Sorajin's nerves.

Kieve scowls, drops the line of small, fluffy animals they've already killed and collected. "Come on, man. We tagged it first."

The man rolls his eyes. "Don't be such a child. Even one six winters old can appreciate the first-arrive-first-to-take rule."

Sorajin can tell Kieve is trying to decide which cards to play. But the obsidian black the Tarshish is sporting and the style of armour he's wearing, tell Sorajin that there are few cards to be played here. "Where is your Master?"

The Tarshish only smiles.

A body collides with his, knocking him to the left and it takes him a moment to realize the person atop him, hissing all sorts of foreign swear words, is Kieve.

Even underneath the leather of Kieve's hand in Sorajin's face, a set of rings glow - a gift from Renjin. The hand lifts out of his vision and sends the other Tarshish dodging out of the way.

Sorajin is pretty sure he has dirt in his mouth. "Are you hurt?"

"How long are you going to lay there and expect me to defend you?"

Sorajin rolls onto his back, hands sliding up Kieve's sides. The look of concentration on the Yona's face is one he's familiar with.

Kieve glares at him. "Master," His voice is so full of poisoned sugar, the younger man finds it kind of funny, "just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Checking to make sure you're okay."

"We can play doctor later. We've got bigger problems than your teenage libido."

Sorajin rolls his eyes and slides out from underneath the older man. Kieve actually is hurt, there are cuts along his upper arm and hip. But Sorajin doesn't worry unless Kieve isn't mobile.

He doesn't have very long to watch Kieve and the other man attempt to exchange blows, though.

He rolls to the right as something flies through the air near his head. Kieve would be pissed if Sorajin let himself be harmed so early on.

Turning, he's face to face with a man a few years younger. The freckles and green eyes are familiar to Sorajin. "You're part of the Toko Clan."

The boy says nothing, merely brandishes his weapon, a staff with a long, serrated blade at the end. He isn't playing around.

When he rushes Sorajin, the older man turns a step, grabbing the pole under the blade. He turns back to deliver a blow but the Toko beats him to the punch - literally.

He's thankful Renjin has taught him how to be at the right angle so he isn't killed by the force.

He is having a hard time breathing through the pain and he's really quite mad that he's going to have to explain his bloody clothes to Renjin.

Kieve slides back, knees soft and still on his feet. He's got a gash that's bleeding pretty freely.

"Eyes over here, imposter," Hisses the Toko.

Sorajin turns in time to block the strike to his chest, the bones in his arms complain. "What do you mean _imposter_?"

The boy sneers. "That's what you are." His leg swings up in a powerful kick that Sorajin knows is in his best interest to dodge. The Toko's heel barely makes contact with his arm, but in a few minutes, there's going to be an ugly bruise there.

He finds himself back to back with Kieve, who's out of breath and furious about it. "Do you know how messed up this is?" He asks. "The only person better than me is Maque. _Maque, damnit!!_ "

"Well, now there are two people," Says the Tarshish. "And I'll give you a name to help with your ranking system." He's so smug, Sorajin thinks about taking his head off. "Mercy. And in a moment, you're both going to be screaming my name."

"I don't know about you," Says Kieve, "but that is the sluttiest come on I've ever heard."

"Not now, Kieve."

Well," He draws out the word, "how about _now!_ " They part, Sorajin sliding under the pike and aiming up, Kieve playing telekinesis with his fancy rings.

The pike falls out of the boy's hands. But a well timed stomp to Sorajin's abdomen has him clenching his teeth so he doesn't scream and shakily clutching the Toko's ankle, hoping he hasn't ruptured any organs yet.

The boy hisses and pulls back quickly when his leggings catch fire.

Sorajin hadn't actually wanted to use that gift, but it seems his only option at this point. It's blindingly painful to move.

There's a strangled scream and Sorajin knows he has to get up.

"I see you find my little trick quite electrifying," Says Mercy.

_Get up_ , Something deep inside Sorajin screams. _Get up. Get up!_ But he isn't healing fast enough.

Kieve is going to die because of him.

He's going to die a year away from freedom.

Sorajin knows he might have to kill these two.

With the snap of his fingers, a wall of flame shoots up between himself and the Toko. He manages getting to his feet, but the pain is intense.

Seeing Kieve writhing is worse though. Mercy stands over him, **watching** like he's not torturing someone from his own Race. Like they don't come from the same boat.

Sorajin has only been this angry once. He isn't really aware of what he's doing until Mercy himself is screaming, the smell of burnt flesh clogging his nose.

Kieve has come back to himself. "Sorajin."

He ignores Kieve. Mercy claws at his hands, the leather is burnt away, strikes him with blow after blow but he doesn't let go. Not even when he feels the electricity tear at his skin. His insides. No, this trash has to die.

Kieve stands, sways, in his peripheral. " _Sorajin._ " His hand goes to the younger man's shoulder. "Sorajin, stop. You're killing him."

His eyes meet Mercy's panicked gaze. He wants himself to be the last thing this Tarshish sees.

He doesn't expect to be doubled over, gasping and holding his midsection while Kieve pushes Mercy back several feet. "Run. And don't you ever come back," Says Kieve. "Or next time, I'll let him finish you."

Sorajin punches Kieve in the kneecap when both of their opponents have left. "You son of a bitch."

"My father was the bitch. For the record."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because you never wanted blood on your hands. You never will. And scorching someone to death? Fuck, Sorajin. That's as bad as electrocution!"

"Why didn't you finish him then? Why did you let him go, Tarshish?"

"Don't bring my Race into this," Says Kieve, rising slowly to his knees. Sorajin can see him trying to hide his trembling.

"It's true though, isn't it? You Tarshish foil the plans of everyone else. You fuck everything up and then you don't defend yourselves when the Full-Bloods come to steal, kill, and destroy your people."

Kieve stands. "Are you telling me I asked for this?" _The flashbacks, the slavery, their precarious relationship, and everything in between._

Sorajin stands up straight too, meets his eyes. And it's in that moment, Sorajin knows he's destroyed everything between them.

"For your information, Human," Kieve's long middle finger pokes him in the middle of his chest, "I wasn't taken. My mother never did anything to anybody. She died giving birth to me because a Full-Blood overpowered her and she was too good of a person to save her own life and end mine. She couldn't fight him off. Nobody could. Then they sold me because I was a dirty Half-Breed those same nobodies wanted nothing to do with." He pushes Sorajin. "And don't talk like I'm the fuck up. I take floggings for you. I do all the dirty, under the table shit your pathetic Human morals don't allow."

He should never have taken out his frustration, his cold fear, on him. "Kieve."

"And don't look at me like that either. Do you actually even call me that when I'm not around? Am I just some joke to you? The Tarshish you rescued and pity until you're bored and need something to tear the wings off of?"

His hands go to take one of the Tarshish's gloveless hands between his. "Kieve, stop."

Kieve pulls away, the rings on his fingers are glowing, a not-so-subtle warning to back off. And Sorajin feels anguish that he's reduced them back to Tarshish and Human. To Yona and Master.

Behind Kieve's closed lips, he clatters his barbell against his teeth. His pupils, usually the size of a large pinhead, are pinpoints now. His dark purple hair is sticking up in a way that would be comical if Kieve weren't so hostile right now. The buck lays a few feet from them. Sorajin wishes they could just go back. That he could go back to when they were sneaking through the forest and talking smack like kids and Kieve didn't think there was anything between them.

Didn't think Sorajin has been like everyone else from the brothel.

Even though he's being open, letting Kieve see his thoughts on his face, the Tarshish isn't softening up like he usually does during arguments. He gets colder, his eyes put up a thicker barrier.

Sorajin's heart twists. "Kieve. I-"

"Boys," Takka sounds like she's in as good a mood as Kieve, "get your game and let's go."

The muscles in Kieve's face twitch as he looks to the right. He's not going to pick up the buck. Or the forgotten line of animal meat on the other side of the clearing.

Takka slams her staff against one of the large trees. "I said let's _go!_ "

With a scowl, Kieve picks up the buck like it's light. Sorajin picks up the other creatures they've caught.

Sorajin follows Takka and instead of walking abreast like he had been doing, Kieve follows at the distance a typical Yona would.

The Second doesn't say a word as the rest of the hunting party joins them.

Many of them are still blood thirsty. Excited. Takka hits with her staff any she catches pushing or shoving, any who say something to start a fight. And this is unlike Takka, usually pretty mellow and tolerant of others.

When they enter the gates, Takka throws her game into the arms of one of the hunting party and stalks off. Sorajin hands his game off, too and goes to speak with Renjin for advice, only to find that Takka is already there.

"You lied to me. To everyone."

"We both know that I lie when it will pay off. You sound as though I've done it simply to step on you." Renjin's tone is calm, tinted lightly with confusion.

"You said you had no children before this. Before Sorajin and the twins."

There is silence for a long moment. "Because there aren't any."

"Then explain the boy that came with Dashiir."

Renjin's voice becomes exasperated. "I can't because I wasn't with you, Takka."

"He looked like you."

"There are at least three different people with similar features to mine. What do you want me to say?"

Sorajin can envision Takka's brows, plucked to perfect circles, drawing together in anger. "You may be our leader, but I'm still a good twenty years your senior. You will tell me the truth or you'll be very sorry you crossed me." Takka could actually overthrow Renjin. Turn their people against her and get her killed even by the people Renjin trusted. But Sorajin doubts Takka would do such a thing.

It's easy to picture Renjin's eyes as downcast. Her voice is soft. "I did. But it is dead."

Takka slams her hand onto Renjin's desk.

"I handed it off to Humans. The village that took it in was decimated by plague four months later. It couldn't have survived."

"Stop calling the child _it._ "

"What do you want me to call the cub?"

"Didn't you look at the cub's sex?"

Sorajin listens to the tension practically crackling in the air. Renjin's voice drops. "No."

Takka's voice drops lower. Dangerous. "Did you look at the cub at all?"

"Once. Right afterwards. Then it opened its eyes and looked at me."

"And?"

"I wrapped it in blanket. Covered its face."

"You were going to smother the cub?"

"I thought about doing worse. But I just..." A shakey breath. "Takka, I..." _I couldn't_ , Sorajin hears in the words Renjin doesn't say. "When I would go to smother..." _The baby_ , Sorajin can practically see Renjin gesturing with her hands, "it fought me, wanted to live as badly as I did." Renjin never could snuff out the life of someone that fought her against all odds. That desperately wanted to live. That's why she loved Sanchu. That's why Takka was her right hand.

Why Kieve had been largely untormented.

He's slow to back away so they don't notice him there.

"Sorajin," Says Renjin when he's crept a few feet away. "I don't like stealthy people."

He is sheepish when he pokes his head around the door, Takka is in Renjin's space, radiating violence. The younger woman ignores her, looking older than normal, worn. "You will tell no one, not even Kieve, what you know."

"Okay," Agrees Sorajin. "But what was so wrong with the baby that you wanted it dead?"

Renjin's expression twists in what might be self loathing or misery. "It looked too much like its father."

Renjin has always opted not to discuss her life before Sanchu. In fact, while he can formulate a good timeline between Sanchu and this moment, everything before that is carefully blanked out.

There are a few things other people say, the older people of the Pride call her "Minnow," the Skin Walkers always make some allusion to a Half-Breed she once knew. Then there are the whispers. But he tries not to listen to those.

Those make him want to ask questions that would get his throat slit.

"And just who was he?" Takka shifts a large stack of scrolls on Renjin's desk so it looks a little neater.

Seconds become minutes and Sorajin realizes that she doesn't want them to know. That she's already let herself be pried open enough and she isn't going to budge any further.

Takka meets her eyes again, expression stern.

Then Renjin turns to him. "Was there a reason you came in, Sorajin?"

"Yes, I..." Sorajin pauses, Renjin draws herself upwards, expression patient. Which is unnatural as hell for her. "I changed my mind. It's not that important."

Renjin looks like she's trying to read him so he stays as relaxed and open as possible. _No, it isn't about the baby_ , He tries to wordlessly say. _I'm not judging you._

It's worrisome, but not shocking that the woman he'd come to like, maybe even love, would kill her own.

He's worried that she might kill the children she's had with Sanchu. Because he doesn't know the circumstances of the first one.

She blinks slowly, dismissing him.

"Thank you, Madam." Her eyes soften. And he slips out of her office.

When he steps cautiously into his own quarters, Kieve is there, laying with his back to the doorway.

He's still slightly twitchy. But Sorajin isn't sure if it's from Mercy's attack or old habits.

Sorajin kneels behind him, resists the temptation to touch him.

Kieve shifts his head slightly, his breathing is no longer slow and deep. "I'm sorry for the things I said. It was wrong. And I can't unsay them." Kieve's shoulders tense. "Go ahead. Say what you need to say."

The older man sighs. "I'm so mad at you." Is all he says.

His hand is gentle when it tangles in Kieve's hair. "I thought Mercy was going to kill you. I lost it. And then you let him get away. I couldn't take my anger out on him. And part of me thought maybe you had wanted to die."

Kieve rolls over, still wary. "You need to realize that we all die. And it is my obligation to lay down my life for you."

There's a burn there, in Sorajin's chest. The idea that Kieve would die, not because he wants to, but because he has to, is a painful one.

"I will probably die in front of you, Sorajin. And I think you need to start trying to be okay with that."

"You aren't replaceable," He insists.

Kieve smiles, but his eyes are sad. "Is that the lie you want me to believe or the one you tell yourself?"


	21. Set In Our Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inan thinks she has a personality issue.  
> That something happened before they met her and now part of her wants to help them but the rest of her is consumed by greed.

When Lillith wakes screaming in the middle of the night, Keava makes her a pot of tea, careful to apply the herbs that bring rest.

Because her Master is restless on a good day. Absolutely unbearable on her worst.

She doesn't ask why Lillith is this way, perhaps, doesn't even want to know. Her thick, curly hair that ends at her knees is difficult to tame. Keava thinks she may have been pregnant once or twice, but has never seen a hint of children.

This morning, Inan, Hajeer, and Keava sit at a table, bleary eyed and waiting for the tea to finish sifting through the filter. Lillith is silent as a spirit when she enters, sitting at the head of the table and looking at them with one of those rare airs. Her hair is pulled back into a messy braid that looks ethereal because of her curls.

None of them speak to her. They're too tired. Too frustrated with the lives they were conned into.

"I'm sorry I've put you into this situation," She tells them. Her voice is softer, lighter. Less like her.

Keava runs a hand through her long earth-coloured hair.

Hajeer draws his lips to the side, pursing them.

Inan drums his fingers on the table. "You should put more training into our weaponry and literary art then."

Lillith sighs, drawing her eyebrows - plucked to perfect circles - together. "You're right."

Inan and Keava share a look, Hajeer folds his arms on the table.

The fact that Inan is a Fall-Back means that if he stops being a prostitute, their funds will be cut by over half. They'll have to find other work. The trio wants to do more than lay on their backs all day and late into the night.

They've done this for three years now. They're sick of it.

But this isn't the first time they've had this conversation with Lillith.

Inan thinks she has a personality issue. That something happened before they met her and now part of her wants to help them but the rest of her is consumed by greed.

By the end of the day, they'll be back to the work they hate.

xXx

"I think we should kill her," Inan says on their break. He's smoking a pipe with some sort of tobacco in it.

The smoke covers the overwhelming smell of sex and makes Keava feel sort of dreamy, less angry at their situation. "That's a horrible way to show gratitude."

"She's been making quite a bit of quint off of us and we only see a small percentage of it."

Hajeer sighs. "But Lillith has lived this long. How easy is it, really, to kill her?"

Inan looks at them from the corner of his eye. "What you don't seem to notice is that there's only one of her and three of us. Hajeer, she stole your virginity. Keava, she lied to you."

Inan is right. Lillith promised to smuggle Keava out from under Kenjin's hand and into freedom. Not sexual slavery.

"And you?" Asks Hajeer. "What did she do to you?" Hajeer had been a kindly temple boy, not really aware of the ways of the world. So when Lillith had lured him in with promises of godliness and knowledge, he never saw it coming.

He'd earned knowledge, but not the kind he wanted.

He once asked Keava to pray for his soul because he was still bitter about it. Keava had told him that one day, that bitterness would bring him fortune. This only baffled him.

Inan takes another long drag on his pipe and sighs through his nose, the smoke that billows out and the dark gleam of hatred in his eyes makes Keava think of a mythological creature her mother always swore existed and would eat her if she didn't eat her greens and abstain from sexual practices of every sort. "She exchanged what I needed with what I wanted."

Hajeer gives him a strange look.

Keava finds his response cryptic and would probably hit him if it weren't for the fact that she knows exactly what he's talking about.

Inan is addicted, almost hopelessly to opium.

Lillith had caught on to his plan to leave as soon as he had the funds and began slipping opium in his tea until he couldn't function unless he had his morning tea. Eventually, she revealed what she'd done specifically to mock him.

He tried leaving, but his affliction was too much to withstand. He is ashamed of himself, furious at Lillith.

Although he once confided to Keava that he might be ashamed with it, but the shame of his situation is nearly unbearable without it.

"Where will you get what you want if she's dead?" Asks Keava.

Inan shakes his head. "It won't matter."

Those words carry a heavy forebodence for Keava.

"I think we should just leave," Says Hajeer. "The god I serve would be ashamed of me if I murdered someone."

Inan cants his head to the side and turns his face to Hajeer. "Don't be stupid. You commit sexual impurities every two hours, thirteen days a week."

"Sex and murder are different," Says Hajeer. "Sex can be used for good. Murder only brings about evil."

Inan turns back to his pipe. Keava can hear the servant girls, too young yet to be making any quint, cleaning the Entertainment Rooms for another use.

She leans her head against the wood of the House and closes her eyes. She doesn't want go back inside, but her break is nearly up.

xXx

When Keava awakes from a dead sleep one week later, she knows what's happening. There are men outside. Inside, too. They're coming to shut down the brothel. She's quick to dress and go quietly into Hajeer's room to wake him. But he's already awake, staring out the window.

"Let's get the hell out while we can."

Hajeer shakes his head. "Not me. I have to die here."

Keava's mouth opens but the door creaks open, Inan slipping inside. "What are you two dumbasses still doing here?" They both blink at him before he grabs both of them and begins leading them from the the room.

Hajeer struggles, weakly strikes at Inan's wrist. "Leave me, I beg you," He says. "You were right. I have profusely sinned and should be punished for it."

Inan glares at him. "Not by death. Atone when we get out."

Keava, at this moment, remembers how attractive Inan really is under all the smoke and hate and false charm.

He takes them through their only way out, Lillith's chambers, pausing when they come across her still sleeping form. "How can she sleep through all of the racket they're making?"

Hajeer let's out a shakey breath. "I fixed her tea."

Inan and Keava stare at him. "Hajeer?" Asks Inan.

Hajeer's voice crackles. "I sent communications to the leader of the raiders."

Inan pulls back as if burned. "You could have gotten us killed!"

"I'm sorry!" Says Hajeer. "I was going to tell you but I was scared she'd find out somehow!"

Then Lillith sits up. "I knew you were a box of worms."

With care and dexterous fingers, Inan pulls a knife from his sleeve. "Takes one to know one."

When she stands, her staff materializes into her hand.

He lunges and she blocks, the rounded end of her staff knocking him in the jaw and Inan only just manages to catch himself and stay standing. He bursts forward as she kicks out, forcing him to abort the momentum and jump back, he staggers and she thrusts the end of her staff into his shoulder with enough force that he gasps, dropping the blade and hitting the floor.

There's a long pause as the sound of men getting closer forces them to consider their options. Inan knows they can't stay for much longer. The men are too close.

"Come with me and I will protect you from evil," She says.

Hajeer hesitates. But Keava darts towards the knife, the end of the staff strikes her where neatly where her waist tapers, and she loses both her breath and her balance. There's another pause as Keava tries to regroup and Inan weighs his odds. Lillith watches them, waits for them to surrender.

Inan rises slowly, almost simultaneously with Keava. They both go for Lillith, Inan dancing out of the way of her staff as she swipes at him and dodges Keava's attempted strikes to her vital points.

Hajeer jumps into the fray with the knife but Lillith twists to the side and out of the way, increasing his momentum so Inan has little options for evading the blade.

He hisses as it sinks into his arm.

Hajeer's mouth begins to spout apologies like a geyser but Inan pushes him out of Lillith's path and rips the knife out. "Shut up, Hajeer." Is all he can say before he's struck in the breastbone, the knife slips, goes clattering to the floorboards once more and Keava goes for the back of Lillith's neck.

The older woman whirls around, bringing the wooden staff with her.

Hajeer attacks her with the knife once more. This time, she throws her staff at Keava and grabs Hajeer's wrist, twisting it around so the blade meets his flesh in the stead of hers.

There's a moment in which Keava hears someone screaming Hajeer's name before she realizes it's herself. Lillith's full, red lips brush against his forehead before letting him drop, gasping and choking, to the floor. She then plucks the knife from his throat and cuts his shirt open. "I never thought you would be the one I'd have to make an example out of."

His eyes are wide as his hands clutch at her.

"I know," She says softly. "It'll only hurt for a minute."

A circle draws itself around them, slowly. Like the death sentance already being carried out.

"You were my favorite, you know." The point of the knife slits his midsection open and the gurgling scream makes both Inan and Keava try to break the sealed, invisible barrier with desperation.

"Please!" Cries Keava, fists pounding against it the rippling barrier. "Please stop!"

"Take me instead! Stop! You're killing him!"

Lillith looks up at Inan. "You would die in his place?"

Inan takes a slow, deep breath. Keava is horrified at the very idea that Inan is simply full of bravado and false promises. "Yes," He whispers. "So take my blood instead."

Lillith smiles, looks like she might take him up on it. "You really care, hmm?"

"I do."

"Enough to quit opium?"

"Yes. I'll quit. Beat me when I think about it. Do whatever you want. But heal him, please, before he bleeds out."

Lillith smiles wider. "I knew I could break that strong will of yours."

Inan is both struck and desperate, mouth open and closing. Looking for something appropriate to say.

"I'm proud of you." She burries the knife hilt-deep into Hajeer's chest before standing. "Let this be a lesson to you, children."

And then she evaporates, the barrier with her.

Inan and Keava both cling to Hajeer as the light leaves his eyes.

They stroke his hair, his face, hold his hand and touch foreheads.

And then their world is colder and darker than it was before. "I feel like a failure," Says Keava.

"You aren't alone," Says Inan.

They wrap his body so his organs don't topple out during transport and slip out the nearest window

They don't talk after that.

Not when they bury him.

Not for the days after.

There's nothing to say.

When sweat beads Inan's brow, even in the cool weather, Keava knows they're in trouble. His mood dampens too.

He can't eat without sickness.

And then he stops getting out of bed as fever overtakes him.

The trembling is horrible and he can do nothing but clutch his blankets as the withdrawal takes him.

Keava can only do so much, work wise. It's not enough to keep food on the table. Not enough to keep a roof over their heads.

So she turns to the only option she can think of.

It's frustrating that they made it out of Lillith's strong fingers, only to slip back into the vice she loathed.

xXx

"Should I get you opium?" Keava asks, finally caving while he's gasping and shaking on the floor. He's followed her out of his room to stop her when he finds out where she's going. Inan looks both incredulous and pleading. Like he wants to stop both his symptoms and addiction.

He wants her to stop.

He still doesn't speak.

xXx

When he's finally past the last of it, he begins work. A small shop that supposedly specializes in items used for people with special abilities.

He competes heavily in tournaments held for Tarshish and Fall-Backs. He isn't bad at first, but he certainly isn't good.

Keava still sells herself occasionally for a high price.

"You should stop," He says to her as she begins to step out the door to see her next client. It's been months since he's spoken and his voice is more pleasurable to her than any touch or kiss she has received. With the exception of Hajeer's.

Those are the sweetest of all.

"The quint we make isn't enough."

"Then I'll work harder. But don't go out again."

She's torn. This month's rent is looming large and she doesn't believe Inan can cover it.

But ignoring Inan will make him feel slighted.

"Just one more," She says.

xXx

"I think we should part ways," He says to her a week later.

She looks at him, expression quizzical. "Why?"

"Because you keep making money in a dishonest way. I'm sick of it."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Not this."

She raises her shoulders. "Do what you have to do. But I have never been on my own."

When she wakes the next morning, she's alone in the house. Inan doesn't come back.

xXx

The first child that appears on Keava's doorstep is a surprise. The second, a frustration. But there is nowhere for these toddlers to go.

So she keeps them.

She receives letters from Inan on occasion, they detail the things he has been doing. The Humans in the neighboring towns call him Father because they've never seen anything like him. Therefore, he must be a god.

They offer him virgin women as payment for protection. She isn't able to find out if he marries any of them, but she is relieved to find that his abilities have increased drastically.

People start gradually leaving more children in Keava's care. And, as they get older, the temptation to do to them what Lillith did to her rears it's head, grabs hold of her and refuses to let go.

Men ask to buy the virginity of the eldest children and, with the bills getting higher every few months, it becomes harder and harder to turn down.

As soon as she can, she hooks the children into jobs that don't involve sex. They see very little of the money they earn, but Keava assures them it's worth it.

Eventually, though, she runs out of space so she moves them to an abandoned monastery, fifteen children and three young cubs.

It's always a struggle to train, teach, love, and work.

Keava feels like she's drowning in her responsibilities. When asked, she tells Inan of her plight.

Two days later, five women appear in her territory, sent by her old friend.

They've each given their purity to Inan, therefore, Human men will not marry them. Her load is lightened dramatically.

And then he sends her a pair of children. And she thinks she might wring his neck the next time she sees him.

One of them is half Skin-Walker. He should have been smothered the day he was born.

But there he stands, chattering away like he isn't an abomination. Bright eyes and an innocent face.

"Nachte and I saw all sorts of things on our way here," He says. "Did you know Humans come in different colors? I didn't."

The boy beside him, Nachte, rolls his eyes. "Of course they come in different colors. Everything does, Jezreel."

"We don't."

"Yes, we do. We also come with different builds."

Jezreel frowns. "Stop using hard words, Nachte."

"Stop acting daft, Jezreel."

Keava sighs. She couldn't possibly kill the boy now. There's too much potential in his stride. His stance will be easy to fix. "Come inside, boys."

Inan wouldn't have sent them to her if he didn't feel they would serve his purposes.

She'll just have to trust him.


	22. Asking For Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjin learns more about herself than Triska or Jezreel....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Doitsu! I'm past one hundred hits! I never actually expected that! Thank you!

At the small table they sit around, Renjin realizes that she loves these two morons.

Even Jezreel.

Especially Jezreel.

"It's really quite unrealistic that you could have this much misfortune," He says. His eyes are so light in colour that if he weren't looking deep into her soul, she'd think he was blind.

He sets a wrapped forearm on the wooden table, hand painted by Triska.

Her forehead is on the table, fine, blonde hair running down her shoulders. A few wisps curl on the table, creating golden swirls. They accentuate the blues and red-pinks and greens and stark black. Renjin thinks she's sleeping.

"Our Good Father must have big plans for you."

Renjin gives him a look. "Stop that."

Jezreel tilts his head. "Stop what?"

"That whole 'Good Father' thing. There is no god. No higher being."

Jezreel's eyes are sympathetic. "You sound like you're sure of that."

Renjin looks at her hands. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

Jezreel takes her hand but his grasp is feather light. Renjin's insides flutter. She wonders if she's getting sick. "I believe that The Sinful Mother has led you astray with your pain," He says.

"Why is the woman always bad in religion?"

He looks at her with compassion. She wants him to lean closer. To press his palm more firmly against hers. "Religion doesn't always find women Evil. You're not." She smiles at the fact that he doesn't find anything wrong with her. "Triska isn't." She suddenly feels very guilty for some reason she isn't really sure of.

When she glances at Triska, her eyes meet one of the other woman's. Jezreel can't see it, but Triska's eyes are cold.

And Renjin, for the first time, feels protective of a man.

She doesn't want Triska alone with him. Because Triska has the eyes of a woman able to commit murder.

xXx

Jezreel sighs as he throws down the last blanket in front of the fire place. "I hate these winters."

Triska flops onto the pile of blankets, Renjin wonders how much that probably hurts.

Jezreel settles himself beside her, wraps an arm around her as she curls up against him and lies her head on his shoulder. When Triska's eyes meet hers, there's a strange mocking look Renjin doesn't understand.

And then Jezreel extends his free arm to Renjin. "Come here, Grumpy."

With a huff and an eye roll, she plops down next to him. "I'm not tired."

"Molk shit," He says. He's smiling so she thinks he's referencing their first conversation. "Come here."

Curling up against him with her head on his chest is a strange, surreal thing. The winter has been colder, more bitter than any they'd had previously, so huddling in blankets in front of the fire is all they can do.

She's nearly lulled to sleep by Jezreel's slow, consistent heartbeat when she begins to feel watched. A glance up at Triska reveals that murderous look from a few weeks ago. Guilt and a sick sense of pleasure rise up in Renjin. She doesn't understand any of this.

xXx 

When she wakes in the night, Jezreel has left their pile of blankets. He paces the floor in the kitchen, looking for something - desperately, by the sound of it.

He hisses a breath out through clenched teeth when she stands in the doorway to the kitchen, his back is to her but his hands are flexing, tendons straining. "Triska." His voice has a strange gravelly quality to it. His body is shuddering. "Triska. I swear if you don't tell me where they are, I'll-" He whips around, planning on tearing into Triska, Renjin is sure. Her heart jumps both to her throat and down to the floor.

His bared teeth are elongated, there are white patches on his skin that look like fur. His bare hands have sprouted claws at their fingertips. And something is different about his eyes. Then he realizes who is actually there. His eyes are wide, eyebrows pulled together. "Renjin..." The fur recedes, teeth becoming less... animalistic. His eyes reshape themselves to regular almond. "I'm sorry." Renjin wonders if her own eyes are wide..

"I'm sorry," He says again. "I didn't know you were awake." His body is still shuddering slightly, claws finally receding.

"Was that," Renjin searches for a nice way to put it, "Was that your true form?"

There's an intense amount of guilt on his face. "Yes. I.... I didn't mean for you to see that."

"Are you okay?" She knew what he was, that he was likely able to do that. His real form, albeit not in the full, might have been scary, but Renjin knew he wouldn't purposely hurt her.

His expression is slightly strained when he smiles. "Yeah. Triska hid my bottle of Sahkmeh. I'm kinda frustrated about it."

She takes in his person for several seconds. "You're hurt."

He scrubs his face with a bare hand. Renjin takes in the details of them. They're different than women's hands. Thicker, more durable, perhaps? "Go back to bed, Renjin."

"Where are you injured?"

He passes by her, his skin is clammy when his arm brushes against her.

"What's wrong with you?" Renjin persists, following him down the hall as he goes through cabinets and cupboards. "Are you sick?"

Finally, he turns to tower over her, eyes shifting back to a more menacing shape. "Go back to bed."

Renjin stares him in the face. "Stop trying to bully me."

"I'm about to bend you over my knee and give you a lesson on obedience."

She can see that he's losing control of more than his temper. The shuddering is worse now. Sweat drips down his face.

Something is wrong. "Are you dying?"

His hand snaps into the air for a strike and Renjin, full of old habits, drops to the floor before he can lay that hand on her.

They stay that way for long seconds.

Seconds become minutes.

He lowers his hand, eases to his knees, and gathers Renjin in his arms. "I'm sorry," He whispers into her hair like a mantra. "I'm so sorry. No, I'm not dying. I'm not sick either." When he stands, he sways slightly. His skin is cold but he's still sweating profusely. He still smells like illness.

Her arms wrap around his neck. "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head as he sets her on her feet. "I need to be alone right now."

Renjin goes back to the pallet and lies down. She stares at the ceiling as she listens to Jezreel searching the house for his 'Sahkmeh.'

He eventually showers before coming back and laying down between them. Renjin pretends to be asleep as he strokes the middle of her hair. She takes deep breaths, inhaling as deeply as she can, the way Jezreel smells. Clean with that heady, distinctly male scent. Some part of her wants that smell on her skin, too.

"I'm going to break every joint of every one of your fingers if you hide my medication again," He whispers to the empty air.

"It'd be nice if you would willingly hand it over," Triska whispers back.

"Renjin saw me tonight. Do you know how wrong that is?"

"Maybe you should learn to control it better."

"Maybe you should keep learn to your hands off my meds."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're lying when you claim to love me," Says Triska.

"Sometimes," Says Jezreel, "I'm aware you're using me."

xXx

It's a few day later, when Renjin gets home from a shopping trip, that Triska is cooking while Renjin puts things away.

Two of Triska's fingers are in splints.

In the back room, Jezreel is merely a large lump in the blankets.

She leaves him be.

His scent is all over the place, mixed with something that makes her stomach turn and something slide down her spine like liquid.

The liquid feeling is similar to the way she felt for Chiikets before- She rakes her nails along her arm, the pain keeps her mind from wandering any further.

xXx

When Renjin gets up in the middle of the night, she notices that Jezreel and Triska have both left her alone in the covers.

Creeping back in after relieving herself in the outhouse, (which she actually despises, thank you very much) she finally comes across them in the back room. Triska is pinned against a wall by Jezreel's weight. At first, Renjin is terrified for Triska, disgusted with Jezreel. Then, she notices Triska's arms around his neck as his hips roll slowly against hers, how high her leg is positioned on his waist.

The scent from before wafts over her, leaving her tingly in places she doesn't much think about.

Triska's mouth meets Jezreel's with urgency, hips meeting his thrusts.

It takes Renjin several minutes to realize the dirty thing she's doing.

And her envy of Triska.


	23. Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tand is dishonest. His youngest daughter, Ruuka, has decided that she'll allow it.  
> For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was considering breaking these up into a series instead of one, chaptered fiction. Thoughts?

Ranka's wedding would have been a beautiful affair if it weren't for the impending knowledge that Renjin would soon find out.

"Goyuun," Says Ruuka, "won't she be furious that we handed off our sister to another man?"

He looks up from his work, sharpening the blade that would be used to cut the Jiira. "Her Promised should have been her daughter. But she has brought about a Human son. There is no good reason to reserve our beautiful, most talented sister for bad blood."

Ruuka resists the hurt she feels.

She is the youngest child. And therefore, at the bottom of their hierarchy. The only one lower than she, is her half-brother Tishta. The product of her father's affair with another woman.

He's hated amongst them.

 xXx

Many of them eat and drink and celebrate Ranka's marriage to Sho. But Ruuka can't seem to push past her anxiety that the Toko Clan will certainly not take kindly to their best fruits being given to another.

Her eldest brother isn't drunk, not even tipsy, as opposed to many in the area.

This makes her anxiety triple.

The second youngest sister frequently seeks his affections, unable to get attention from their father who only ever seems to care for his oldest children, but Ruuka is terrified of what he might do to her.

She wants to ignore him when he stands beside her. "You don't appear to be enjoying yourself."

"I fear the consequences."

"Maybe you should relax a little. Let go of this constant thinking business." His touch on her arm is light.

She shifts away from him. "Unfortunately, I haven't any control of that."

"Ah, but we are more than capable."

"I wish you would control yours, then."

Surprise crosses his features. "Ruuka."

"Goyuun." She could be punished for talking back to her brother. But she won't let him hurt her.

He eventually backs off, not really interested in Ruuka's fierce attitude.

xXx

She is pleased when her Father visits her, bringing with him a new Mokk'et and a nose piercing like Ranka's, signifying her maturity and eligibility for marriage.

After her nose is pierced, he gently slips her Tiloam into place, lets her run her fingers over the silver chain, before settling the Mokk'et around her neck, hair, and the lower half of her face, mindful of her tender nose. She absorbs his affection like a dry sea sponge to water.

"Good?" Her father, Tand, asks.

She nods. "Thank you for my gifts."

He smiles. "I would like to ask for something small in exchange."

Ruuka can't repay him enough for the scant attention he's given her. "Anything."

"Until you're married, I want you to pretend to be Ranka."

And then she realizes this is really just a ploy. A horrible, evil plot to trick Renjin.

Ruuka is going to die.

Her father pats her head, but all it is to her is empty. He doesn't actually care for her, he's just trying to ensure Ranka lives long enough to reach full potential.

Ruuka promises that she will never trust another, only ever look out for herself.

So she'll be Ranka.

But only long enough to get what she wants.


	24. Separation Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keava has unknowingly allowed two of her students to commit a practice she isn't fond of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter, ah?  
> Serious Girl/Girl here.. I have the hardest time writing it...

Thorne has never really thought about sex.

Okay, so she has. But Keava has drilled it into them since they were young to keep their thoughts pure.

She always thought Yorea, had an easier time with it. Because Yorea has been better at everything since forever.

So when, in the darkness of the meditation closet, Yorea's hand slides over her thigh, she's startled, but doesn't think much of it, continuing her prayers. Yorea appears to be doing the same. Until mile long fingers glide under her skirts.

Thorne nearly leaps from her skin. "Yorea?" She whispers, if it weren't for the chill if the other woman's hand, she would think she was imagining it. "What are you doing?"

Her eyes open, revealing gleaming light purple. Thorne, having grown up with Yorea, still finds those eyes unnatural.

They don't break eye contact while Yorea's fingertips slide upwards.

"What if Madam Keava sees us?"

There's a long pause, Yorea's finger tips rub small circles on her inner thigh. "Are you uncomfortable?" Her voice is deep from trying to keep it low. But there's something in the undertone.

Thorne shifts slightly. Unsure if it should be towards Yorea or away. Did she want to stop? Wasn't this wrong?

Yorea had never cared much about women before, what was different now?

Thorne runs her fingers over Yorea's thin wrist, wonders idly if it is hard to be something other than Human. Thorne doubts she's a pure Full-Blood. "You can touch me," She says. "But, I don't know if I can return the favor."

Yorea stays on her knees in the small, dark space. But she still manages to turn to face Thorne, who can't see anything other than those eyes. "You don't have to."

Thorne wonders if Keava would sell Yorea if she caught them. She's pretty enough.

They'd probably kill her.

Fingers press gently against the apex of her thighs and she jumps at the contact. She's both mildly irked and greatly relieved at the fabric that keeps Yorea from flesh.

Yorea rubs her fingers up then downward again, testing Thorne's reactions. This continues for a few minutes, Yorea's slow strokes creating a slow heat in her nether regions.

Thorne gasps when the fabric is pulled aside, thinks it's a little frustrating that Yorea can see her, every twitch, every expression she makes, but all Thorne sees are her luminous eyes.

Deft fingers press against her clit, roll slowly. She's only able to bite her lip and gasp. Yorea pauses, waits for any indication that Thorne is uncomfortable before she eases a finger into the entrance below. Thorne groans but yelps when her friend slaps a hand over her mouth. A reminder that Keava could be just around the corner or the people in the closets on either side might hear them, it makes heat pool low in her belly.

She nods and the other woman's hand draws back, fingertips tracing her lips before gently pressing inside.

She shivers and sucks slowly, unsure if this is really what she should do. A second finger presses into her folds, gradually growing slicker. Thorne's hands go, reluctantly to the younger woman's breasts.

The fingers in her mouth pull out, push her hands away. "Don't do it if you have to force yourself."

"But-"

"But nothing." Yorea's fingers crook in just the right spot, sending Thorne doubling over and clutching at her.

xXx

This goes on for weeks. And they get so close, they're practically the same person. Keava doesn't seem to notice. But she separates them, sending Thorne to work with Chante on pushing back the Exiles.

Yorea is sent to learn everything she can from Inan.

They're separated for two years, all the while, keeping a correspondence.

And Thorne, missing her best friend, begins to fall for the woman sending the letters.

When they meet, they have to learn who the other is all over again.

They sit in a garden, in the Neutral Territory of the Trading Grounds.

"I've missed you," Says Thorne, her hands fiddling with her scarf Mokk'et.

Yorea smiles. "And I, you."

There's a tenderness that Yorea never thought Thorne could posses when her mouth finds the younger woman's.

When Thorne draws back, looks into Yorea's eyes, she knows there's more to it. They sit there, forehead against forehead, eyelashes lowered, enjoying the company of one another.

"I won't be able to love you the way you need," Says Thorne. Her breath is sweet on Yorea's lips.

"I know," Yorea says. "You'll always be my best friend."

Thorne looks up at her then, lips stretching into a small smile. "And you'll be mine."

It's weeks after that Thorne is pulled aside by Chante. "You're not focusing on the task. What's going on?"

Thorne shrugs. "I miss Yorea."

Chante pauses. "What do you miss about her?"

Thorne thinks about it for a moment. "Her smile. The way she says 'tomorrow.' I miss the way she laughs and the way she looks when she kisses-" And she realizes she needs Yorea. She doesn't want to live without her. Chante's expression is knowing.

xXx

She puts in a transfer request the next day and begins a long journey to see the woman she loves.

They don't hide their relationship from Inan. And he says nothing of it. Some are disgusted by it. Some follow them around and ask to watch.

Yorea laughs off any who approach her. But it isn't so easy for Thorne.

It's when they're laying in bed one lazy morning, Yorea stroking her hair out of her face, that she realizes that what other people think means nothing.

Her lips brush against Yorea's with new vigor. "I love you," She whispers between kisses.

Yorea doesn't reply.

She doesn't have to.


	25. Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven is forced to adapt in new circumstances.  
> Nachte won't leave him hanging though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually didn't expect to have another one ready this early.  
> Never doubt, some chapters come easier than others.

When Haven awakes, he aches. Like he's been exercising for two days straight after years of inactivity. There's a man standing over him, mopping his forehead with a wet cloth.

A trio, two girls and a boy stand away from him.

The man speaks slowly. But Haven hasn't a single clue as to what he's saying. He runs a gloved hand through Haven's dark hair, eases a pair of glasses onto his face. How the man knows he needs them, Haven will never know.

"What happened?" He asks the man. When he sits up, he feels dizzy.

The man hands him a cup, filled with water, supports him while he drinks.

"Where am I?"

The man frowns, listening intently but still unable to comprehend.

He looks towards the trio, speaks again. "Do any of you speak English? Espanol?"

They look at him with concern. No one says anything.

"Okay," He says. "So there's a language barrier." He's slow to get off the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. "I can try to work on it." He points to himself, "My name is Haven." Then points to them.

The older man points to himself and enunciates, "Nachte."

The boy points to himself. "Luca."

The dark haired girl steps forward. "Kira."

The last girl smiles shyly at him. "Rozolyn."

They seem nice enough.

Rozolyn chatters non-stop while she shows him around the house. He really can't distinguish one word from another, the way she speaks.

After two days, he learns, 'room', 'food', and 'no.' (When he tries to leave the cottage.) He also notices that the words Nachte uses are slightly different, some are very different.

He realizes, eventually, that Nachte has a different dialect. Which is weird, and mildly frustrating.

It's a week later that Nachte brings him out into the warm sunlight. It burns his retinas, but Nachte won't let him turn back, the trio follow behind him.

There's a tree with branches that hang low with a strange white fruit. Nachte hoists himself from branch to branch, dropping the ones he finds acceptable, before climbing down.

Haven finds the fruit impenetrable. The trio have no issue with it, much to his chagrin.

Nachte seems to notice, holding out his hand to Haven, he uses the word for 'Give.' When he does, Nachte sinks his teeth into the hard shell, it makes a crackling sound, like that of an egg.

He breaks off a piece of the shell and hands it to Haven. He tries to bite into it but only hurts himself.

He shakes his head at Nachte, holding his fingers to his mouth. Nachte shrugs, peeling the fruit with methodical fingers before passing it back to Haven. The shell crunches as Nachte eats. It reminds Haven of potato chips.

Or the crunching of bones.

The fruit is sweeter than any he's ever tasted, hinted with citrus.

Nachte sits, hands never touching the ground, and opens his own up and showing Haven the seeds. He peels one open with his nails and offers it to Haven.

The seed has a mildly bitter taste but he feels more relaxed after eating it.

xXx 

When Nachte starts wearing his gloves again, he insists that Haven wear them, too.

"I don't get it," He says to Nachte, then tries to say, "What's the big deal?" In their language. But Nachte just looks at him strangely. Luca laughs.

He, too wears gloves.

So Haven reluctantly wears them. Rozolyn's shirts have high, stylized collars, Kira wears a choker.

They never seem to take them off.

"Don't they annoy you?" He tries after a week.

Nachte looks at him strangely again, so he repeats himself. The other man narrows his eyes and Haven wonders if he's just said something offensive.

Then he tilts his head and says, "Sometimes."

Haven just about clutches him by the arm in his excitement that there's finally a hole in what seemed to be an impenetrable barrier. Nachte smiles in good nature, not even sure why Haven is, suddenly, in such high spirits. 

xXx 

It's in the middle of the night, two weeks later that he hears scratching and whining at the door. His dog is there. "Jillian."

She whines and tucks her tail.

He lets her in, takes her back to his room. She sleeps on the foot of his bed. In the morning, he lets her out. When she returns, Nachte watches her with concern and curiosity, like he does everything Haven-related.

She creeps up to him, ears and tail tucked back.

He doesn't move as she sniffs at him and whines again. Rozolyn crouches near her, extends her hand. Jillian sniffs, then licks it timidly.

"They won't hurt you, girl."  


But Jillian is dead set on thinking otherwise. She refuses anything Nachte offers her, which is fine with the white wolves that inhabit the cottage.

The biggest wolf, called Monavere, is constantly eyeing Jillian, ears twitching this way and that when she makes noise. 

There's something awfully strange about Monavere though.

"Is there someone else watching the livestock?" Kira asks him one morning. The wolf huffs through his nostrils and draws himself up further, as if offended.

"Sorry," She says. "Pull the squirrel out of your ass, huh?"

His ears twitch when she says, 'squirrel,' but he remains stoic other than that.

The other wolves don't seem to have the same demeanor or intellectual ability as he does, either.

Haven wonders why this is.

xXx 

It's when he's coming down the hall, days later that he hears a deep, man's voice speaking to Rozolyn. Their voices are low, But when he creeps around the corner, he finds a large man with white hair sitting across from her.

"Are you really going to let Renjin do what she wants?"

"Monavere, do you really want to go to war over something so miniscule as her choice in who gets to power play?"

"I'm telling you, Roxoi is a bitch. And not because she's a female canid."

"Let our Minnow figure it out, then." Rozolyn's voice takes an aggravated edge.

"Roxoi has a vendetta against me. She will try to talk Renjin into taking everything from us," He insists.

"And if that is the case, we'll kill her. It shouldn't be too hard for you to sink your teeth into her throat."

He leans back in his chair. "So we wait? That's it?"

"Yes, we wait."

Haven doesn't look forward to the coming weeks.


	26. Eyes That See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiikets doesn't always make the best decisions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after an error while trying to edit, I've had to repost this whole damn thing. Sorry guys.

Finally, he's at a point where he knows each of his family members inside and out. And realizes that Kajiim, while naturally quiet, has likely had something happen to amplify her personality.

Her training with her cousin, their Ess'en, is a good sign. But it's worrisome that she avoids Chante.

Her trust in him needs work.

He pauses to watch Kajiim and Honjin train, they dance around the clearing, exchanging blows and notices one of his young men watching intently.

He is unaware when Chiikets approaches him. "They're like works of art, aren't they?"

The young Male jumps, Chiikets bites his lips together in effort not to smile. "Y-Yes, Sir."

The boy is lanky and lean. He likely won't be able to hold his own when they go to battle.

Kajiim will have to wait.

"Which one is it that you've taken such interest in?"

A hint of red colors his cheeks. "Kajiim, Sir."

That was a surprise. Honjin was typically quite popular amongst the single Males in the area. "You plan on having her?"

The young man fidgets, hands in front of him, head down in submission. He appears to think Chiikets will knock him one should he say the wrong thing.

He's probably come from a Clan with a domineering Male, bent on ensuring he was the only one to mate with the Females.

Chiikets glances at the girls again, debates what realistic thing he can say that is still encouraging.

"You'll have to put in a lot of work for that one." The boy's gaze shoots up to meet his, an act of surprise but not challenge. Chiikets thinks nothing of it, softens his eyes and body language so he isn't a threat, to show that he means what he says. "And when you get that girl," He hopes his word choice is noted ― _When._ Not if, "don't ever make her evade you."

He'd seen it plenty in his time out from under Kenjin.

"And something you can do to earn her, let her want to stay with you, is to ensure your survival." A little incentive never hurt anyone. Especially not a young Male on the cusp of his prime.

The boy tilts his head. "Will that be all she wants?"

Chiikets shakes his head. "No, Son. But it helps. She can trust that you will always return to her."

"But how can I get better? Stronger?"

Chiikets takes him in, looks at his stance and recalls everything he can about the boy. "You excel in the rain and wet conditions, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

He glances over to Kajiim again, looks her over, recalls what he can. It's not very substantial. Mostly what he's observed or received from Honjin or Chante. "She doesn't do very well in the rain." He remembers instances in which she's had to be out in it. "You can compliment her weakness with your strength."

The boy is still puzzled.

Chiikets loves the excellent timing in his life. They're coming into the rainy season. "I want you to learn how to give the weather a little push."

The smaller man gapes like a fish. "But I'm not a-"

"Not manipulate or control," Says Chiikets. "I know what you aren't." He draws the boy away from the girls. "But all that matters is what you _are_. So learn to just give it a push this way or that."

"That'll impress her?"

Chiikets resists the urge to roll his eyes. He would have if it weren't that he remembers being young and smitten, too. "Probably."

"But who can I learn from?"

This gives Chiikets pause. "Work on your training with Chante, show Kajiim's Estarred that you're worthy of marrying her. And I will look for a teacher for you."

The boy nods, turns to do as he's bid.

"And Sasayo?"

The boy freezes, spins around to face his Leader. "Yes, Father?"

"Remember to love her for who she is. Not who you want her to be."

xXx 

It takes a hefty amount of will to be able to sit beside his Chosen quietly. She takes her time to acknowledge him. One of the few things she has any real control over in regards to her Leader.

When she finally pauses in her note-taking, finally glances his way, this is when he is allowed to speak with her. "Sasayo needs a teacher."

She returns to her note-taking. Thankfully, once he is acknowledged, he can expect that she is listening. "Do you suppose Kiren would be suitable?"

"What is is you want him to learn?"

"To use the rain for his gain."

She looks at him fully this time. "He's a water type?"

He nods.

Shiseken thoughtfully rubs a hand over her stomach, already grown taut with their child. "I will ask her."

"Thank you."

She leans over and presses her lips against his cheek.

There are a few women that also bear his children. The difference is that she not only became pregnant with his child first,

but she is the only woman he loves.

Thus, the complication their life is. If any of the other Females give birth before she does, they will ascend in rank.

He strokes her hair, runs his thumb gently over the fabric around her neck. He wants to make love to her. But he has work to do.

She turns fully to him once more, hands taking his between them before pulling his glove off with her teeth. His breath catches in his throat.

And he has to draw away before he feels the pull to ravage her.

"I can't." It comes out breathless. He's reluctant to pull his glove back on.

But when he stands, her scent is heady and his desire comes back full force. "Change of plans. We have a few minutes."

He's gentle when he lifts her onto the table, her book of carefully crafted notes and her ink well are pushed aside and his gloves slip off. Her Mokk'et comes off as her long, slender legs pull him closer.

xXx 

When he comes to speak with Kajiim, he's met by Laniika, the second Female to bear his child.

She has to wait for his acknowledgment and he's quick to give it, only ever using his patience when he must.

"I wanted to speak with you about Asheer." Asheer has always been a problem. She's capable and strong, "She's showing aggression to Kiste and I," but power hungry and quarrelsome. It doesn't help that he didn't lie with her much this Season.

"I will deal with her," Says Chiikets.

Laniika smiles, settles her hand lightly on his arm. "Thank you, dearest Brother."

"Sister, it is the least I can do."

There's only mild intimate touch between them before he must face Kajiim.

He crouches a beside her, a few feet away, resting his elbows on his thighs and awaits her acknowledgment. He has no intention of scaring her or doing her harm.

She looks up from the sharpening of her thin sword, settles it beside her.

"Walk with me," He says.

She stands, sheaths her weapon at her hip, and obediently trails behind him.

His meek, tied firmly to its post, lets out a squeak when he nears it, the rounded ears on top of its head twitch and its long tail, with a tuft at the end, swishes back and forth.

"Yes, yes. I know you're excited," He says to the creature. It's been gnawing its post in what might be boredom.

The other meeks squeak, some let out short barks when he nears them.

When he releases it from the post, it presses the top of its head into the crook of his shoulder and begins clicking.

Kajiim smiles in his peripheral. In the Fall, this stupid creature had repeatedly tried to mate with him - in front of the entire Clan. And, being bigger than him, almost succeded had Kajmir not taken it by the reins and pried it off of him.

Shiseken kindly pretended not to have seen it. Chiikets' pride had been pretty well wounded after that.

 _Can't win everything,_ Chiikets supposes. The meek allows the riding gear to be situated onto its sturdy body, only nips at his arm when he draws the strap too tight.

Kajiim strokes the fur along its snout. "Does she have a name?"

"His name is Stupid."

She frowns. "Animals have feelings, too."

"I'd call him something else if he hadn't gotten much too in touch with his." 

She turns away from him, probably trying to hide how funny she had found the situation. The only people really brave enough to blatantly laugh at him were Kajmir and Asheer.

Kajmir because he was Kajmir and could get away with anything. Asheer because she had the power to do so and wasn't afraid to try to take him on, even if chances were high she'd lose.

"I'm sorry," She says. "It isn't funny to be accosted in such a way."

"I think that, with more time, it'll be funny to me as well." He boosts her onto the creature before easing up himself.

The animal cranes his head back to them. Kajiim strokes him behind the ears. He squeaks in what Chiikets believes is pleasure before loping in the direction Chiikets bid.

Kajiim is anxious to be this close to him, he can practically hear her heart beating as fast as a yoksa bird's wings when it's spotted prey.

"I wanted to speak to you about your Estarred." Chante is the oldest amongst his siblings and cousin, a position of honour and leadership.

She tenses against him, stays silent. Now he regrets taking a beast of burden instead of leading her on a walk.

He cannot see her face.

"Your relationship isn't good?"

Kajiim's shoulders draw up as she tries to get some space. He shifts, gives her a few inches.

The animal takes one of the trails of its own accord, one that loops back to their living space. He should stop it, steer it to the traps that have surely snared game by this time, but he doesn't want to give Kajiim the opportunity to pretend neither of them have spoken.

"Is he angry with you over something?"

Kajiim shakes her head. Her voice is soft as a butterfly's wings. "No, Father."

He spends several minutes debating whether or not he should really pry. If he should let blood matters stay blood matters. "You are unhappy with him?"

Her shoulders droop, hands fidget. "I am."

"Then we should fix this. It isn't good that you don't trust him."

"We can't fix it, Father," Kajiim's voice is shaking. He's pushed her far too hard. And he is angry with himself for not realizing it. "What's done is done."

He wants to stroke her hair, but that's too intimate after the lines he has just thoughtlessly crossed. His hand on her arm is light, a calculated gesture. "But that doesn't mean he can't learn from his mistakes."

"Sometimes, even learning isn't enough atonement."

"Is he aware he has done you wrong?"

Kajiim nods.

"And has he expressed a desire for forgiveness?"

Her breath hitches.

Chiikets' heart hurts with hers. "Sweet Kajiim." His hand rubs down to the crook of her elbow before drawing up again. "Daughter, forgiveness is for you. Not him. It sounds cruel, but it doesn't matter if he wants it or not. You only hurt yourself, if you withhold it." Her head drops back against his chest. "Unforgiveness makes you bitter. Full of hatred." And he wishes someone had given this wisdom to him at her age.

Her eyes open, but they aren't looking outwards. "We know that is far from who you are. You are a lovely girl, unfit of such dark things or this melancholy."

She takes a shuddering breath, is looking at him now. "You can't possibly understand."

He meets her eye, prays no one sees them like this, realizes taking a meek was a horrible idea. "Maybe not. But everybody has had a hard life. And you see what happens to those who choose bitterness."

She lifts her head upwards, he leans his away so he isn't hit on accident.

He will not look around to check if anyone has seen them. That makes him appear guilty all the more.

"Are you bitter towards Kenjin?"

Chiikets spends a few moments in thought. "I try not to be. Forgiveness is necessary, even for him."

"And Anayo?"

"Especially Anayo."

Her hands stroke the fur behind the meeks ears. "But you still think they should die?"

"You can forgive someone and still do the right thing."

"And killing them is right?"

He notices Honjin watching them, clenching the strap of her bag at its place in the center of her chest in a white knuckle grip. "Is there another way to stop them from hurting anyone else?"

She doesn't answer as he slips off, helps her down, and takes the meek to its post. Honjin is still watching them. Her gaze prickles at the back of his neck.

When the animal is tied up again, and he's removing the riding gear, she says, "We can imprison them."

His hands freeze mid pull of the buckle. "We could." Then they resume their work.

"But you would rather kill them. Does that make you bitter?"

He opens his mouth but has no real answer to offer. When he meets her eyes, there's no intent on winning, just observation.

 _Surely it isn't bitterness,_ He thinks. _A strong offence is the best defence._

Isn't it?


	27. An Ungrateful Captive Set Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something in Kieve's stance, the look in his eye and the noticeable... Something in his hands and spine. "Read the scroll."

Renjin's family is sitting at the table for afternoon meal, sipping tea and discussing their next moves. Sanchu drums his fingers on the table, watching Renjin's slide over the map with intent.

"I don't like it," He eventually taps out, just a quick cadence of his fingertips.

"What do you advise?" Asks Renjin.

Sanchu actually knows this area better than she does, the area to the West. His village had been there until Anayo's people razed it and tried to turn the Humans into nothing more than cattle.

He takes a few moments, examining the map. Renjin bites her bottom lip, trying to reign in her impatience.

There's a commotion in the adjoining reception room, things being knocked into and people speaking quickly. Sanchu and Takka stand, Renjin doesn't even look up, still plotting their route.

When Kieve slides open the door, breathless and dripping perspiration, Sorajin stands, too.

He throws the scroll in his right hand onto the table. It slides, crinkling and bunching up the map.

Renjin glances up at him, peeved at being interrupted. "Someone had better be dying, Tarshish."

There's something in Kieve's stance, the look in his eye and the noticeable... Something in his hands and spine. "Read the scroll."

Renjin takes her time opening it, the seal is already broken. She scans over it once. Twice. "This is a good opportunity for you."

She slides the scroll to Sorajin.

It's signed by Inan. "The resident god wants to disciple you?"

"How would you like me to reply?"

Renjin and Sorajin share a glance.

"Say you'll be available two months from now."

Kieve gives her the strangest look. "Two months?"

"Sorajin didn't tell you?"

Kieve's eyes bounce between Sorajin and Renjin. "Tell me...?"

Sorajin remains standing as Sanchu and Takka sit, watching them with mixed expressions. Renjin's eyes are empathetic and yet guarded.

"I'm getting married in two months."

Surprise gradually becomes understanding. Sorajin can see the walls coming up again, can feel his heart aching a long with his lover's. "You're free the week before."

Kieve shifts from one foot to the other. "Free?"

Renjin pulls something from her threadbare, patched messenger bag, slides an old scroll across the table to the Yona. "Open it."

Sorajin comes around the table, pushes a chair where he thinks it ought to be just as Kieve wordlessly drops into it. "Free." His voice is shakey, clogged, and it hurts Sorajin just a little that his closest friend will be gone like the wind at the first opportunity.

Kieve's hands aren't shaking. They're trembling. "Did I do something wrong?" He looks back and forth. From Matriarch to Heir.

Renjin shakes her head. "Sorajin has intended your freedom from the start."

There's so many fleeting emotions, Sorajin can't catch them all. The reoccurring ones are betrayal, anger, joy, and utter incomprehension.

He tosses the scroll onto the table and puts his head between his knees. At the bottom of the scroll, is Renjin's signature, signed with her own blood.

This is more binding than a normal signature.

Sorajin's is there, too.

"Kieve?" His hand is light when it settles against the older man's shoulder.

But Kieve bursts upwards, to his feet, rings glowing through the leather of his gloves. "You kept me in the dark this whole time!"

"I know."

"On purpose. You purposely misled me, you Naresuanic sadist."

Takka and Sanchu stand in unison.

"You should calm down."

He rounds on Takka without a second thought. "Shut up, you two-faced bitch!"

Renjin's eyebrows draw upwards. "You're always so ungrateful."

"I thought I would be serving you people forever. That every year until my death would go to you. And I didn't mind it. I was okay with it-"

"I wasn't," Says Sorajin.

Kieve turns back to him, hackles up. "Then why didn't you tell me?!"

He steps into Kieve's space, Renjin stands now, too. She obviously thinks this is a bad idea. But Sorajin ignores them, drops every single barrier, taking out his wooden hair pieces and letting his armour drop to the wooden boards under their feet.

Kieve has an even harder time keeping his own guard up.

Sorajin isn't afraid of being hurt. Not because he doesn't think Kieve will hurt him, he seems to expect it. But he is willing to be hurt, to show himself.

When he stands in only his under clothes, hair grown long, draping like dark silken curtains to his shoulders, he raises his hands to Kieve, wanting to touch his face but keeping a distance.

And it strikes Kieve just how much their roles have reversed in the last year and a half.

Sorajin has wanted to be close to him. Hasn't wanted to let him go.

He leans his head forward, into his Master's hands, reluctantly drops what barriers he can, and listens for Sorajin's reason.

"I didn't want it to taint every interaction. I wanted to know you. And you, me."

Kieve is gasping with an emotion he can't name. "I could kill you for this."

Renjin moves to stand nearby, intent on keeping the life of her heir.

But Sorajin doesn't move. He merely widens the space between his bare feet, strengthening his stance. "And, you would be justified. But I think you would be better off gritting your teeth for now."

Kieve won't meet his eyes, Sorajin withdraws his hands.

Kieve snags both the correspondence from Inan and the contract with his fate on it and leaves just as quickly as he came, not even looking back.

"Should have put him in his place," Says Renjin.

"It wouldn't be love if I only wanted him under my hands."

Renjin gives him a look that says she clearly disagrees.

But it's no matter of Sorajin's.

xXx

Weeks pass and Kieve is cold, distant to him. And as much as it hurts, Sorajin knows it's for the best. Kieve pushing him away will make his transition easier.

Hopefully, it won't leave Kieve distrustful and bitter towards everyone.

When Sorajin sleeps, he dreams of Kieve lying next to him, the smell of his skin, his warmth and thin frame draped over his own. And with every day that passes, he longs for the other man. Hopes that Ranka is an affectionate woman.

When Kieve's release date is only a week away, he finally comes in and lies next to Sorajin.

He holds his breath, afraid any movement will destroy the illusion he's in, leaving him with nothing but his longings.

And then the apparition rolls over, looks at him. "I'm sorry," It whispers, its breath fans against his skin. He's still too afraid to move in any way. "I wasted what little time we had left being angry at you."

Now Sorajin rolls to face him, touches his face. "We can still make the best of it." Kieve kisses his bare fingertips.

Kisses him more sweetly than he has in the past.

And, oh gods, Sorajin soaks up every second, commits these moments to memory because he may never have this - may never see Kieve - again.

Kieve will, as far as Sorajin can tell, never be under Sorajin's protection again.

There's a soft slide of skin, someone moans and Sorajin isn't sure who.

"Fuck," He gasps, pulling away from Kieve's mouth. "Too hot."

"Slower?" The Yona asks.

"We've got all week."

Kieve leans his forehead against Sorajin's. "It feels wrong. Surreal."

Mouths meet again. Fingers tangle in each other's hair. Kieve presses open-mouth kisses over the dark haired man's neck as legs wrap around his waist.

Sorajin's right, they can make the best of a week.


	28. Knowing What He Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orro should know better than to ask deep questions when people trust him enough to answer honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning there's discussion of incest... And abuse (As usual) in this chapter.

Itan has Human pupils, Orro notices.

It's not really a secret that he's a Half-Breed. His mother had loved a Human quite passionately until Ralom became convenient.

Orro wonders what happened to Itan's father almost as much as Itan himself.

"Have you ever thought about sex with Keteer?"

Orro isn't surprised at the question, even though most people would be.

But Itan has a penchant for strange questions. "No. Have you ever thought about sex with Danshu or Noyek?"

Itan doesn't respond.

Orro knows he's done more than think about it. "I think you should get some space from them." He's careful to keep his voice neutral even though he feels sick. "They trust you and you don't want to break it."

Itan's green eyes meet his and Orro is careful to be perceived as open and sincere. He hates how manipulative he's become since he's met his friend. "Especially after what Ralom did to Noyek." Knowing what he knows, this subject is extremely touchy. But he has to say it if he's Itan's friend. "And you should tell someone." He has to tell someone that this has happened.

He also has to be careful about it though. "And Itan?"

The other man glances at him.

Orro forces himself to meet his best friend's eye. "I love you. You're my brother. But if you _ever_ touch Keteer," he can feel his lip twitching upwards, "I will kill you."

xXx

Noyek and Danshu are beautiful, sweet girls. But complete opposites. Noyek is shy and skittish while Danshu is exuberant and outgoing.

"Can we talk?" He asks Noyek.

The only reason she agrees to it is that she knows Orro, trusts him.

She's still quiet and nervous when he takes her to lunch. She looks around the eatery like she's expecting him to lead her into a trap. They sit in a booth on the left side of the tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant. She sits facing the double doors and he sits with his back to them.

A testament to their current mindsets.

"I'm sorry for asking you this." Her dark eyes narrow, lips thinning. He thinks he's seen Renjin make that look. Rozolyn is incapable of looking anything but deceptively jubilant. A rouse to cover the sly, flint-like darkness in her eyes. "Did Itan hurt you?"

She stands, hips and thighs knocking against the table. Orro expects she'll have some nasty bruises later. "Don't."

He stands too, slower, less threatening. "You need to say something to somebody."

She makes to leave and he snatches her by the upper arm. "You can't just let these things keep happening to you without a fight!" Realizing the wait staff are paying attention to the scene being made, he sighs, leans in closer, lowers his voice. "Aren't you a Toko?"

She rips her arm out of his grip. "It's only a name. There aren't any magick powers that come with it, so mind your own damn business." He blocks her path and she scowls. "Who would I go to anyways?"

"Renjin. Haunku. They're your best bets."

She stares at him. "You want me to trust your backstabbing Uncle?"

He sighs. "That's rare, okay? Don't you want to get out of this never ending cycle?"

She looks out the window. "Yes."

"Then you need to talk. I'll go with you if you want."

She shakes her head. "Itan will know."

"Itan is already going to know."

"Won't he be angry with you?"

Orro shrugs. "It's probable. I can't just turn a blind eye to this, though."

She frowns.

"Do you know if he hurt Danshu, too?"

"No. He and I are closer because we sacrificed ourselves for our siblings."

He must have looked empathetic or heartbroken because her hands fly up in front of herself. "Don't!"

 _Don't pity me_ , Her expression says. _Don't treat me like a victim_

With a breath and a prayer to Bakubakk, he takes her lightly by the elbow. "You and Itan don't have to do this by yourselves anymore."

Her eyebrows draw together. "Monavere says the truth sets us free. Why do I feel more entangled than ever?"

xXx

Itan and Orro come to blows over what information should be given. After Orro gets a black eye and Itan receives a busted lip, it's settled that nobody talks about what goes on when Ralom is away.

But Orro is determined to repeal it at a later date. When Itan is stronger, less shamed by it.

Noyek is sent away temporarily so nothing else will happen.

"Every time you think you can trust someone," Itan mutters from the other side of the room.

"Shut up," Says Orro. "It's better to deal with it now than have someone uncover it later."

Itan's hands pause in their washing of the laundry.

Oh Bakubakk.

Somebody caught them having sex. "Who else knows?"

Itan's hands scrub the fabric on the washboard almost violently. "Our Estarred."

"Wait. Wait. Wait. Sorajin knows you two were..." He can barely think it, let alone say it.

"He tried intervening. Mother waved him off. After she overlooked my nearly drowning him, he stopped coming around."

"You tried to kill him?"

"It isn't that hard if he isn't expecting it."

Orro can sort of understand the want to play Head-of-the-Family. Although, he'd much rather do it in an honest way.

But this isn't a power play.

This was to hide what he did.

Suddenly, Orro realizes just what sort of hole he's dug himself.

And how likely he'll be laying in it if he isn't prudent.

If Itan is willing to hurt his Estarred over this...

... What will he do to Orro?

Best not to think about it.


	29. A Gift Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anaya and Anayo are, really, only two sides of the same coin.  
> Which would have been good for them if they were different people in a different family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, more bloody mentions of/implied incest.

Anayo catches himself looking at his sister's red, red lips. It makes him wonder whose blood that is...

She looks at him. "Are you well, Estarred?"

"Yes, Ess'en."

He can feel a disturbance in the air. Pretends like he isn't aware. She flips her light brown hair over her shoulder. "I am thinking about taking Chante."

He pauses in his reading. Glances up at her. "I think you should give it a rest." 

"Why?"

"Because you've already had three men in the last month. If you don't slow it down, people are going to notice."

"They're going to notice no matter what. May as well enjoy it while it lasts."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Don't you think what you're doing might be wrong?"

She blinks. "Even if it were, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop. Warriors have such sweet blood. Invigorating souls."

Anayo is aware he's making a face, only because her expression becomes flat. "Stop it. You have all sorts of disgusting sexual habits. I just want to feel alive."

"Are you claiming to be better than me?"

"Only slightly."

"Says the woman that has tried to devour each and every member of her family."

"You people are irresistible. Especially Mother. I'd do just about anything to get all that joy and anguish, narcissism and surprise when I have her, in my lungs like a drug."

"But then you'd have to breath it back out."

"Yes. But she has such a deep well to draw from. Deeper than almost anyone else I've had. Gods, I get goosebumps and wet panties just thinking about it."

He thinks his mouth is hanging open. "You get hot at the idea of murdering our Mother?"

She shivers. "Gods, yes. Her blood running down my skin as I inhale all that's left of her."

 _That's twisted, Anaya_ , He wants to say. But all that comes out is a shakey breath. She smiles at him. It's the same smile she gives to the men she plans to Have.

She stands slowly, unfolding long, graceful legs before gliding over to him, running her hand over his desk. Settling herself onto it, shoving his project to the side. "Who do you want me to be?"

He pushes his chair back. Her leg brushes his hip. "I won't play this game with you."

"I promise not to Take you this time."

"There's always a next time for you, isn't there?"

"Of course. But I want to wait until I've had Chante before trying you again."

He looks at her for a long moment. "Who have you recently added to your repertoire?"

"What little I could steal from our She'shen without Father noticing. The naive stable boy was surprisingly pleasurable. Didn't know molk about sex, though. That was disappointing."

"Show him to me."

Her form shivers as her skin changes from ivory to tanned and her shoulders broaden. This form is willowy and lank. The young man facing Anayo is actually a few years older than they.

"Give me a taste of what Yokksun was like."

The image before him takes a perplexed expression, if he could forget his interactions with Anaya, and her eyes that remain green, even in this form, he wouldn't know anything was different with Yokksun. "What do you mean? I am he."

When he pulls the other form into his lap, it shivers. Gasps when his teeth sink into the space where his neck and shoulder connect.

xXx

Shura runs a hand through her hair, looking Anayo over. "You are a savage. I can't believe you would betray me like this."

Anayo says nothing, he can feel his lips drawing upwards.

"And your sister! Who does she think she is?"

"Still in her prime?"

Shura rolls her eyes. "You had best learn to control your desires or I will teach you to."

"Mother," Says Anayo, "you are in no position to teach me anything."

She turns on him then, teeth bared, he shows his teeth in response.

He wonders how hard it'll be to overpower her. What she would look like begging him for mercy.

His right hand shoots out, her right arm knocks it away as she slips back a few steps. He wants to hear her cry.

His leg swings up and back with bone crushing force and she slides back even further and picks up a vase. "You're going to get it."

"Oh, Mother. In only a few minutes, I'm going to make you eat those words." His eyes gleam with something Shura obviously can't decode. "And then some."

It's when he tackles her that her eyes begin their intense glow and he can feel the air shift around them.

xXx

When he comes to, he's naked and tied to a chair, his Mother paces back and forth in front of him. "Anayo, I'm going to give you what you appear to want."

The sound of a zipper rips through the air before her flowing black dress falls away and he can already feel himself watching her with curiosity. "Yet, you will regret having it." Her body is a little different than he expected, her breasts are rounder, form thicker than he could have accounted for.

She smiles at his stupified expression. "You will help me triumph over your traitorous sisters."

Destroying Renjin was easier than expected. He couldn't kill her without soliciting Kenjin's wrath, but he could make her wish he had.

"Anyone new you found to play with?" He asks when his twin comes in.

Anaya grins. "Yokksun has a brother."

"Bring him to me."

Some small part of him hates the way he's living, makes it harder every day to look in the mirror. He has tried everything to kill it.

But Shura has made it clear the only person he should be killing is his twin.

xXx

The boy is nothing but skin and bones, Anayo almost feels pity for him. He waits until his Ess'en is busy torturing him to run her through and give his sword a vicious twist.

She coughs blood, it spatters the boy's agonized face, and tries to turn on her Brother, hand whipping towards his face at light speed.

When his hand catches her wrist, he's sure to give it a quick little twist.

The snap makes him understand why Anaya loves spilling blood so much. The nails of her free hand rake down the side of his face and he snarls at her before pulling his blade from her flesh and sinking it into her again, using his superior strength to hold her still before throwing her to the floor as though she were a ragdoll.

She lies gasping on the floor as the boy starts to hyperventilate. "Please. Please don't kill me."

Anayo is sure to settle his foot over his Sister's throat when he stands before the boy. He isn't much younger than they. The softness and youth he holds tells Anayo that he has never been to combat.

He starts to sob, squeezes his eyes shut as Anayo licks his Sister's blood off the boy's skin, takes his time to savor it.

He makes a strangled sound when Anayo's teeth find his shoulder, hands pulling with purpose at the wounds the female twin inflicted.

She's desperately clawing at him with her good wrist, emitting all sorts of sounds that aren't unlike that of a wounded animal.

Finally, he kneels beside her, wraps his hands around her throat. "You know, if you hadn't shown me your little trick, I wouldn't have to kill you."

"Mother?" She rasps.

He nods. "You know how she is about keeping her place at the top. You're a threat."

She smiles then. It sends a chill through him. "I'm not the only one. Renjin is going to tear her throat out."

Anayo shakes his head. "Renjin has been made into a mouse. She'll never be much of anything."

"Oh," Gasps Anaya. "But she will. I've made sure of it."

And he realizes that she saw this coming. "How so?"

Her eyes take an ethereal glow. "I've given her a gift. Similar to what you're about to receive."

He steels himself in case she intends to try to Take him. Her mouth opens and instead of feeling suction, he feels a heavy wind against his face. It pushes hard against him. He feels overwhelmed, unsure what's happening.

When it stops abruptly, the air smells different in a way he can't place.

And his Sister is dead.

Shura is standing over them, having just saved Anayo from whatever his twin was planning.

He feels out of it, sort of strange like only a Half-out-of-body experience. Leaves his mother behind, leaves his sister on the cold stone floor, leaves the boy screaming and sobbing and begging not to be abandoned.

He wants to know what gift his pathetic Sister was given.

He spends two hours searching before he realizes she's gone. Anaya, in the end, still managed to pull one over on him.

"That's not all," She says. When he turns, she's smiling, leaning against the stone wall.

"You're dead," He says.

Her smile becomes unearthly then, Anayo feels his heart skip a beat or two at how terrifying - demonic - her smile is. "Not out of sight."

The air grows cold. "And never out of mind."


	30. Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haunku discovers that maybe his partner isn't asexual after all.  
> Chante is as curious as a cat.  
> Or maybe just green with envy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did some editing because I really should write more plot than not, right?  
> Right.  
> 

"You can't make me," Anju tells Keava on a crisp early morning. "Seriously."

"I can't?"

Haunku is honestly surprised that his apathetic partner of six years suddenly feels so strongly.

Keava wants to send her out with Ehao for reconnaissance in other Territories. Her relationship is fairly good with Ehao. They don't talk, don't disturb one another or get in the other's way.

Haunku should really be bothered when ignoring and tolerating counts for getting along.

"And why would this be?"

"Where Haunku goes, I will go. Seriously."

He can feel his eyes getting wide, his mouth opening and closing. Thinks he probably looks like a fish. "What?"

Keava gives him a look he brushes off, ignores in his shock.

"I will not be separated from you," She says. "You need me, idiot. Seriously."

_Do I?_ He asks himself. There's something in her eyes that makes him feel he should agree. He vaguely wonders if she's charmed him. Keava gives him an expectant look.

"She's right. I've gotten good at working with her. We should continue to do so." The word need is a little too hard for his pride to swallow.

Keava huffs. "Fine."

xXx

"Was there an actual reason you wanted to stick close to me?"

She sighs through her nose. "I hate almost everybody. Seriously."

He rolls his shoulders, tries not to take it personally. "Does this mean that I'm just someone in particular that you hate less than everyone else?"

"No."

"So you hate me but you want to stay with me..." He holds his hands waist level, palms to the ceiling and fingers splayed. "Anju, I just don't understand what you want from me."

She tosses her long, brown hair over her shoulder, it all stays on the right side of her head, though. He wonders how she gets it to do that.

"I said I hated _almost_ everyone."

"Yes, I know what you-" Oh.

_Oh._ He thinks his brain just exploded.

She stares at him like he's dumb and she pities him for it.

"Okay," He says. "So what does this mean for our relationship?"

She is quiet for a long time and he thinks hard about it.

She doesn't hate him.

Is she neutral?

Does she care about him?

Is she intending that he court her?

Her mouth is feather light against his and he holds his breath, unsure if he should push it.

xXx

He makes it a point to do something good for her at least twice a week. Other than that, everything is normal.

She let's him touch her when he pleases even though she doesn't seem too interested in touching him back.

xXx

Their recruiting mission has gone horrifyingly wrong, there are too many people for them to get out of it unscathed.

Anju fends off her attackers before one of them grips the chain, entertwined with her Mokk'et, from behind and yanks. He's told her a million times that thing would be the end of her.

When she hits the dirt, cold fear grips his heart, rolls his stomach as he pushes his own assailants aside and runs to his partner.

He slaughters them, not even sure how and she lays there, drenched in blood and watching him with what he thinks might be awe.

When he kneels, picks her up like a Human Male might his bride, she leans her head against his shoulder, runs bloody fingertips against his cheek.

"Don't die, Your Royal Bitchness."

She scoffs, cups his cheek with a clammy palm. "I wouldn't dream of it. You need me too much."

Bursting into the old cabin is simple enough, he regrets having to break the lock.

She's bleeding out through a gash in her thigh and he's left frustrated that his hands are so far from still. They're unsteady on a good day. With her help while she lies on her back, eyes to the ceiling, he manages to stitch her up.

His hands slide over her bare skin, they're both still sticky from the blood.

And even though she's exhausted, he pulls her into his lap and she kisses him, hands tangling in his matted hair. He's still terrified that he almost lost her.

xXx

He isn't sure why sex becomes a thing for them after that.

"So," Says Chante, eyeing Anju like a tasty treat.

"No," Says Haunku, already not liking where this is going.

Chante rolls his shoulders and smiles, a flash of sharp, painstakingly cared for teeth. "Then can I watch?"

"You can keep your dick on the other side of the island."

The dark haired man rolls his darker blue eyes. They're almost black in this light. "We both know I won't hurt her." He tilts his head. "Except when she screams for it."

Haunku huffs. "That won't happen," He says. "Her body is receptive to me alone."

His eyes gleam with hunger again. "Show me."

xXx

Her eyelashes flutter as Chante's hand slides feather light up her calf. His mouth is gentle over hers.

She sleeps as though she were dead.

Even under Chante's carefully crafted charm, a useful trick to give him the upper hand over other Males come Fall, she ignores him, kicks out in her sleep.

"This has never happened before," He whispers.

Haunku shrugs.

Anju, obviously drugged so she would sleep through their experiment, rolls over and groans.

Chante sniffs, indignant. "You try."

He stands over her quietly. She turns to him when he touches her face, tilts her head back as he runs the tips of his fingers down her throat and over her collarbone.

Chante's mouth opens in disbelief. "Will she let you fuck her?"

"Want to watch?"

xXx

As it turns out, Anju hates being made a fool of. Chante is left nursing a broken arm and Haunku is put in the nearest healing center.

Haunku thinks maybe he's lucky that he's only been beaten within an inch of his life.

They don't see Chante for awhile after that and Haunku is pretty well mistreated for the next few months.

He considers himself sort-of-almost forgiven when, after he finally gets his nose to stop bleeding, she lightly takes his hand in hers, but while her profile shows only apathy, her eyes betray a dark, intent warning.

Haunku won't be getting anything physical (other than another cracked rib) for some time.

Haunku is willing to admit he deserves it.


	31. Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercy is loathe to admit it, but he has had no control over his life.
> 
> Until now.

A glance at the mirror doesn't worry Mercy. Nor does the scantily clad woman in it.

It's that she is so sure she's going to catch hold of him - Of Ma'hale, she doesn't even bother to hide herself. Mercy is no Yoksa chick, fresh to be picked off.

But he _is_ Tarshish.

Part of him despises what he is. His bones are too light, hair too eye catching.

"What is it?" Asks Ma'hale, who is so unaware of what he is, knows very little of the utter devastation he could do to Mercy.

Mercy's hip still occasionally aches from a hair line fracture accidentally inflicted by Ma'hale during sex a few months ago.

In this moment, Ma'hale takes him by the arm. "What's gotten into you?"

Mercy keeps his mouth firmly closed.

xXx

Hyon is quiet today, he notices. "Madam?"

Her eyes flick to him, then back to the animal she's plucking the feathers off of. "Yes, Yona?"

He drums his fingers on the table. "What's on your mind?" It's really not his place to ask, but she's kind to him and has seemed melancholic for days.

_It's bad for the baby_ , He tells himself.

She must know he won't say anything. "I'm thinking about leaving Anayo."

Definitely not going to say anything. He curses himself, his loss of control in his surprise. Hyon has been kind and amazingly loyal to Anayo, it makes no sense that she would suddenly turn tail. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

"I just," He swallows all the spit he can gather in his dry mouth, "I don't understand."

She sighs, wipes her hands on her apron. "Honestly, I love your Master." At first, he thinks they're still talking about Anayo. "But he's obviously..." She gestures. Mercy doesn't follow. "I think Anayo kept his blood in the family." She says.

"Okay," Says Mercy. "What concern is it of yours?"

"What will he do to our baby?"

_Good point_ Thinks Mercy. "He hasn't harmed Ma'hale."

Hyon looks at him with tearful eyes then. "It only appears that way."

Mercy can feel the hair on his arms standing on end.

xXx

_It isn't as though I care about what happens to Ma'hale_ , Mercy tells himself when he revisits the conversation.

But he can't pretend that what ever befalls Ma'hale doesn't seal his own fate.

If he dies under Mercy's watch - The Yona can't even bear to think about what will happen to him.

Staring at his reflection, he feels trapped. There's nothing. Utterly nothing he can do to save himself.

He hates what he is.

A hand shoots out of the mirror, snags him by the shirt and he hisses, yanking back.

Out of the mirror, comes the woman, bright blue eyes glowing like the pendant hanging from her collar Mokk'et. The bangles on his wrist glow and spin, gradually picking up speed.

She's a Full-Blood, stronger than he, chances of escape are reduced greatly. Her mouth opens, normally sharp teeth shifting to pieces of glass as she darts in to tear his throat out. In his panic, his body goes into autopilot and hits her with a jolt of electricity, shattering her to pieces.

He staggers back, presses himself against the wall and tries to catch his breath.

He could have died just then.

So why didn't he?

Why didn't he just let her kill him? It would have been a quick death...

The glass on the floor draws itself in to a pile and he waits for the Fall-Back to attack again. She doesn't rise out of the glass shards.

The mirror is destroyed.

And he's too tired to deal with it. The skittish maids do his bidding as though he'll kill them if they don't. Everyone here, except Ma'hale, lives on edge, he realizes. Never knowing when they're in for a world of hurt but always knowing it's coming.

xXx

"Catch," Says the woman from the mirror, Maque. She gives him enough time to perk before she throws the scroll at him.

He scans it, notices the signature. "He wants me to lead the Tarshish to freedom?"

"Is that what it says?"

"Yes."

"Then surely, that's what it means."

"Why me?"

"Many Tarshish are scared out of their wits. Some are far from what he has been searching for. Others have become traitors, want to remain pets for the rest of their lives."

Why fight and risk being tortured when you could simply lie under their line of vision and only receive minimal wrath? Mercy gets it. Has lived that way for as long as he could remember.

"Okay."

"Ah. But there's a catch," Says Maque. "You have to kill your Master or make a great contribution to take him down."

This is what she had meant when she said many of them chose to stay pets. Murdering their Master was risky as hell. Not to mention some of them had come to love their Masters.

And the rebellion would have to kill them for their loyalty.

He idly wonders what Kieve would choose. "Did you ask Kevierkets?"

"He turned it down without a second thought. Said he couldn't betray family."

Mercy scoffs at that. If a Tarshish can be family with Full-Bloods, Mercy's the purest nun there ever was. Kieve is in denial.

He pities the poor, naive Half Breed, wonders how long it'll be before the rude awakening breaks him. Molds him into a Full-Blood Hunter. This thought entertains him mildly. "If I do this, I want an eye on Kevierkets. He'll be useful when his time comes."


	32. Words of Encouragement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieve isn't saying his goodbyes yet, but everyone else is saying their's.
> 
> There's also a dark cloud on the horizon that Kieve is sure he can handle by himself..
> 
> ... Sort of.

The Twins perch quietly on his bed while he studies the material Inan has sent him, goes over all the things he's expected to do and have a basic knowledge of.

"Are you going away, Kieve?" Asks Youten, Renjin's blood son.

Kieve has braced himself for this conversation. It still hurts a little.

"Yeah," He says. "I'm going away."

"When are you coming back?" Asks Emma, Renjin's only daughter. Emotion grips his vocal cords. His whole life, he's wanted freedom. But now... Now that he's got it, it's a bitter pill to swallow.

"Hm!" Emma giggles. "I bet big Brother knows! We should ask him."

He doesn't have it in him to tell them he's not coming back at all. He settles himself between them, a stark contrast of long limbs and chubby little bodies. He wonders if he was this cute at seven.

They were already toddling when he first joined the family.

"Are you going to miss me?" Kieve asks playfully.

Youten pouts, tries to look genuine. "No."

"I will." Emma climbs up into his lap, takes his face in both of her hands, and looks up at him with big, brown eyes. "Will you miss us?"

Kieve smiles. "Very much." His lips place a tender kiss to her forehead. "But for now," He grins, "I'm gonna eat your fingers!" He chases her hands with his mouth while she squeals and squirms away from him.

He grins at Youten who stares at him warily. "I'm too old to like you being a finger monster."

"Oh yeah?" Asks Kieve. "You're never too old for this!" He gently pushes the boy down and blows what the Humans call "raspberries" on his stomach. When Youten is laughing so hard he's out of breath, Kieve lets him up, settles into a crouch.

The boy tries to look stern with him and Kieve has to laugh. "Get that look from Brother, did you?"

The boy is awful proud of himself. Kieve sweeps him into a hug. "I knew Youten was under that Tough Guy Attitude."

The boy hugs him back, sighs against Kieve's shoulder. "I'm gonna miss you a lot."

"Be good for your mom and dad, okay?"

He nods.

Little Emma comes over then, takes his hands in hers. "We love you, Kieve."

He does his best to keep his emotions at bay, it's really not cool to cry in front of the children. "I love you, too."

And then she plants one on him.

He jerks back sharply, falls on his ass. "That's not okay, Emma."

Emma tilts her head. "But Sorajin does it."

"Yes," Says Kieve, patting her head. "He does."

She frowns. "It's not nice to have favorites."

"That kind of kissing is for big people." He hopes his voice is gentle.

"So when I'm big like Brother, I can kiss you, too?"

Well this just got extremely awkward. "Um, if you want to, I guess...."

Youten scowls, kicks him in the thigh. "I don't miss you anymore."

xXx

"Your sister is strange," Kieve tells Sorajin as he braids the younger man's hair.

Sorajin's tone is a mix of warning, concern, and curiosity when he says, "Kieve."

"She kissed me."

Sorajin gives him a measuring look. Kieve stares back, nothing to hide. "It's innocent. Don't worry."

"If it gets any weirder, you should look into it." Kieve tries to sound casual.

"Did she say why she thought it was okay?"

"She's seen us do it."

"Then it's nothing to worry about."

Kieve gives Sorajin's hair a light tug. "That's so fucking weird coming from you, Mr. Heterosexual."

He sighs. "I know."

xXx

"Kieve," Says Renjin on the other side of the curtain.

He stops mid stride and backs up slowly to the doorway, cursing himself. He knew he should have taken the long way. "I'm sorry, Madam. I hadn't any intention of disturbing you."

"Don't lie, Kieve." He can hear the eye roll on the other side.

"Usually," He admits. Irritating people - within reason - is something he loves.

But she's retired to her room which is a sure sign to leave her alone. "I'm sorry I bothered you," He says.

"You haven't. I've been meaning to speak with you. Now is as good a time as ever."

"But-"

"Come in, please."

He takes a breath, reaches for the curtain but pulls back at the last moment, wimping out. What if people talk?

He really doesn't want to upset Sanchu. Or Sorajin, for that matter.

Is there something she wants to tell him that other people can't know?

He's slow to pull back the curtain, knowing full well he can't bolt once she's asked him to do something.

He steps in, mindful to pull the curtain closed behind him. Renjin is lying with her back to the door. "Madam?" Was this a ploy? Would she rather kill him than let him go?

Would she portray him as a pervert taking advantage of his new freedom?

She sighs. "Sit."

He creeps forward, settles himself a few feet from her.

The fact that she's lying in bed, now that he's thinking about it, probably means she's having a day in which her depression isn't something she can push through. He has only ever seen her give in to her depression a handful of times in the years he's served.

She rolls over, taking her time. Her eyes are tired, even on her side, her visible shoulder has a defeated line to it. But she's honest when she speaks. "I'm proud of you."

And his week just gets weirder.

"You've done well by us and managed to make a name for yourself."

He goes to remove his rings. "Thank you, Madam. It has been," Good? Amazing? So painful sometimes he can't breathe when he thinks about it? "Eye opening."

"Keep them." She nods towards the rings. "They're yours. No one can or ever will use them as well as you."

"That's not true." He still has a long way to go.

"Then make it true," She says. And time stops for several seconds. Did she just...? "People love you, Kieve." _We love you_ , She can't say. _I love you._ "Don't let anyone put you underneath them again. Stay free until you're ready to have Sparrows."

_Whoa. Too much **weird**_ , Thinks Kieve. "Renjin, why on the island would I even think about starting a family?"

She smiles at him, that alone seems to take effort. "Do you have everything you need?"

And just like that, she's no longer the Mother, but the Mistress, looking out for her people.

xXx

Sanchu is stitching up a long piece of fabric, needles sticking out of his mouth.

Kieve smiles at his intense concentration.

"Long day?"

Sanchu's laugh lines, steadily making their appearance and gaining definition, make his smile more sincere.

Old are uncommon on the island. It's too hostile to those that deserve rest in their long lives.

_But Sanchu isn't old_ , Kieve thinks. He's only three years older than Renjin. The island has worn him down.

"Takka doesn't like Inan," Says Kieve. "Should I be worried?"

Sanchu laughs soundlessly, a movement of shoulders and shakes his head. He dips his pen into the ink well and diligently writes in winding letters, _I wouldn't. She just doesn't want you to go._

"There's nothing between them?"

_Not that Takka has ever mentioned._

They're silent for a few minutes.

Finally, Sanchu dips his quill again. _You know, you have been a great help to us. Kept Sorajin out of trouble._

Kieve shakes his head. "I'd be dead if he were any one else."

Sanchu smiles at him, runs a hand through his curly hair. _You should come back when you know who you are. Visit when you're ready._

But Kieve isn't sure he's coming back. There's another Tarshish uprising on the horizon and he'll be working under Inan while creating an outcome other Tarshish can live with.

They'll hang him if he isn't careful.

Guilt hits him square in the chest. He's been obsessing over it, since Maque brought it to him, by himself.

He's been hiding it from Sorajin.

From the entire family.

Takka is starting to catch wind of it, gives him penetrating glances from time to time while he holds his breath and prays to every deity he knows the name of.

What makes him physically ill, is that if they find out he's hiding it, they'll think he's leading the damn rebellion.

That he wants them dead.

He smiles, hides his shaking hands under the table. "Of course I will."

He wonders if it'll be in a box. Or worse yet, if they'll want him back at all.

It's worth it as long as his family is safe.


	33. The Trouble With Tarshish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illia might be the best. But her Tribal Mentality isn't doing her any favors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, I can move on to other characters after this...

"Are you ready, Illia?"

The Tarshish nods, pink hair sliding like silk over her shoulders.

"You know what you have to do then."

And with that, Illia turns and slips out the door. Her soundless pace down the hallway falters when he joins her. "Sir?"

"Did they debrief you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. I've got something else for you." The scroll is handed to her from under his arm. This is an under-the-table scheme.

It glows when she takes it, the information transferred to her without the need to open it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. If you can recruit him, I'll give you a place at Anayo's very table after it's been soaked with his blood."

She shivers. "I'll will do whatever I can, Sir."

"I know, Illia."

xXx

Slipping into Renjin's Territory is simple enough. She's small enough to cling to the bottoms of wagons, hide under tarps with all sorts of preparations in them.

The hardest part is covering her smell.

Takka is sitting with the youngest children.

Illia can't see any good reason to kill the cubs. She knows it'll bite her in the ass.

She grabs one of the maid servants, has to be careful when the knife goes into the girl's skull.

Blood on a uniform is a dead giveaway. It takes only a minute to trade clothes with her. Longer to drag her where she won't be found right away.

The kitchen is bustling with cooks and servants of every order. Illia does her best to blend in, hair pulled back.

"Come here, girl," Says one of the cooks, not actually looking at her. "Get this up to Madam Takka immediately. She'll skin us if she has to wait any longer."

She nods, takes the cup and it's saucer and makes her way through the maze of hallways.

Stopping for only a moment, she slides a small packet from her apron pocket, sets the cup on a small hall table and sprinkles a pinch of the contents in her packet into the cup, stirring it in.

Perfect. It's ridiculous that everything has fallen into place so easily. She eases into the room, unobtrusively setting the cup down beside a woman who certainly doesn't look her age.

"Your tea, Madam."

Takka grabs her wrist so firmly, Illia is afraid she might break it. Had she seen through the outfit?

"You aren't one of ours."

"I've been serving for a month, Madam. Am I that hard to remember?"

Takka's grip gets tighter, Illia can feel her bones protest. "Don't give me any sort of lip, little girl. I'd remember your hair."

Illia breathes deep, thinks of another lie she can use. Takka gives her nothing to work with.

What was the son's name?

Sache?

Jonkiim?

"The Young Master bought me. Has kept me to himself." Takka's grip softens but only slightly. "He sent me because the usual girl isn't feeling well. Said she had a horrible headache."

Takka releases her then. "Tell that girl she'll have a real headache as soon as I have the time to get my hands on her."

Illia nods, backs away as quickly as she can. Disgust surges in her stomach when she realizes this Young Master has a Tarshish habit.

Between the Twin's bedroom and the Prince's room, she's sure to change her appearance with a charm.

The quarters are slightly cluttered, over all, well organized. Two bodies in the bed.

One of them is Tarshish.

Shaking with rage, she stands over the other man, drawing her knife.

He doesn't deserve a quick death. How dare he use her people for his pleasure?

Her hands are trembling so hard she can barely hold onto the hilt, she kneels over him. Knife poised over the bastard's belly, she glances over.

The Tarshish is watching her, eyes daring her to go through with her intentions.

"It's for your own good," She whispers. "Don't you want to be free of this man who has, surely, used you to your own hurt?"

The Tarshish shifts closer, hand between his Master and the knife. "You will have to kill me before doing anything to him." The entire room starts to tremble and Illia realizes he means it.

"He's brainwashed you. When was the last time he raped you?"

The poor, confused Tarshish laughs. "Not once."

Illia frowns. "You're one of us. I don't want to hurt you."

"Then leave," He says. "Because if I find out anyone has been harmed, one of us will have to die." He smiles, white teeth bared. "And it will be you."

She shoves his hand away, punches the knife downwards.

The next thing she knows, she's lying on the floor, his forearm in her mouth, between her teeth, knife lying by the door.

"I told you," He says. "That I will make you pay."

She bites down, hopes he can regenerate. He winces, but doesn't pull back when she tastes blood.

 _Oh shit. ___She thinks, _He wanted me to bite him. ___He pushes his arm harder against her, shifts it upwards, baring her throat. She's panicking as he tears off her Mokk'et, starts screaming when his teeth close lightly over her throat. He's going to kill her the way feral animals do. There's no rehabilitation for this one. She should have killed him - put him out of his misery. His weight keeps her pinned, one of her hands underneath her. And yet she still can't bring herself to end him. She could. It would only take a flick of her wrist.

"Kieve?"

____

There are alarms going off throughout the temple. People are looking for her now.

____

And the Human is watching them. "Kieve."

____

He pulls back, eyes hard. He wants her to know that he's letting her live. She releases his arm, turns her face to the side and spits his blood.

____

When he backs off, she bolts from the fucking place. The Tarshish watches her go.

____

xXx

____

She's shaking when she takes cover in a cave not far from the temple. "What's wrong with me?"

____

She thought she'd been ready to die. But maybe she was more cowardly than she believed. Maybe it was the idea of being killed by one of their own.

____

Nearly every Tarshish she'd saved had returned thankful.

____

Even the hostile, brainwashed ones hadn't threatened to tear her throat out with their teeth.

____

This one had been made into a rabid animal.

____

Illia can feel that familiar burn in her sinuses. She's crying over the feral beast.

____

She feels so stupid for it.

____

But she also feels determined.

____

If it's the last thing she does, she'll free him from his insanity.

____

And he'll thank her.

____

xXx

____

When she arrives in the palace, the leader smiles at her. "Pretty little thing. I bet my men would love a taste of you."

____

____

She smiles, and her hand opens. The smoke bomb goes off near them, giving her time to sink her knife into his torso.

____

Another man grabs her by the hair and he meets his end when her knife fills his eye socket.

____

This, she can do. Killing Full-Bloods is what she lives for these days. When she's done, her battle with the rogue Tarshish means little to her.

____

She's still the best. Still unflappable.

____

Still Inan's best.

____

She frowns. Inan, too, is a Full-Blood.

____

With a sigh, she flops onto the massive throne, steadily takes the form of the dead leader. She'll have to replace his cronies. "But Inan's Race is distantly related to us. Doesn't that make them the exception?" She asks the ceiling.

____

She receives silence.

____

Her little finger flicks up and a window to her right opens, a bird flutters through it. "Let him know we're ready over here."

____

Within the week, this would be the Tarshish's base of operations. And she would lead these Full-Bloods to battle.

____

Unbeknownst to them, they will be furthering the plans of their enemies. She smiles at little at the thought.

____


	34. Unfamiliar Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raiton has decided it's time to move on.

Raiton is silent.

His mother washes the dishes, ignoring him.

"You can't say things like that to Qett."

She pauses. "Sweety, I'm his mother. I can say whatever I want."

"Calling somebody broken because of their dyslexia is wrong, _Mother._ "

"He _is_ broken, Raiton. You're the only one worthy of living." The silence decreases the temperature of the room.

"I'm going to have to replace that damn door soon," Says Chante as he steps into the room.

"Dad, make mom take her meds!"

"Raiton," Says Chante. "You ought'nt speak to me like that."

"Dad," Says Raiton. "Now is really not the time! Mom is-" 

"Thinking about buying a new table!" Chirps his Mother.

"That's a great idea, Thorne."

Raiton knocks the table over when he stands. "Fine! Fuck both of you!"

At the stunned expression his Father takes, his Mother says, "I don't know what's wrong with him. I think he's falling ill."

xXx

"Qett, Dokta," Says Raiton. "We're leaving."

Tonro is staring as his friend starts getting things together. "Where will we go?"

"Anywhere but here." He tosses a bag to Tonro. "If I see one more bruise on either of my siblings, I'm going to break my Mother's neck and throw her down the stairs."

Tonro punches the full length mirror by their bed, makes sure to shatter it to a million pieces. "Yeah, we should leave." While they're packing, the glass begins to piece itself together, gaining height and width in all the right places.

Finally, there's a rippling effect and as the glass ripples upwards, it becomes flesh and fabric. "What's going on?"

Raiton glances at her. "We're leaving. Talk to your Headmaster about coming with us."

The woman frowns. "You can't stay put a scant period of time?" 

"It isn't _'scant.'_ " Raiton rounds on her. "You asked me to stay _'just a short time longer'_ two months ago, Maque."

The woman shifts the blonde hair over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Things aren't going our way."

"And what way is that?" Asks Tonro. "No more hiding."

She shrugs. Raiton steps out the door, siblings in tow.

Chante meets him at the front gate. "What are you doing, Son?"

"Leaving. Because you aren't the man I thought you were."

Chante's stricken look makes Raiton feel guilty. But only for a moment. He doesn't know where he's going, but he isn't going to stay here anymore.

"Let's stay with your Aunt Tevil while we work things out," Says Tonro. He hasn't any family of his own.

Maque does, but she doesn't know them very well, has no real attachment to them.

Her Headmaster is strict on where she can go and when. He, along with Raiton's family and those in the compound, is her family.

xXx

"I'd agree to it, Maque. But there's a problem I haven't yet presented to you."

"On with it, then." Tonro and Raiton snicker behind her at the funny way Fall-Backs speak to one another. Maque becomes a different person in their presence.

"I've been corresponding with the resident god of the West. On the condition that we receive one of his pupils, you were offered in compensation."

"And you, along with the Council, willfully neglected to make me aware of this? Why?"

"You are to make your appearance at his dwelling within the span of four days," Says the Headmaster, his transparent image fading.

Maque can do nothing but scowl. "Naresuan."

"Yup," Says Tonro.

"Nothing for it. You'll have to come with me."

"Wait. Wait. Wait," Says Qett. "Go with you?"

"You can't go home."

"I think that's a good idea for now," Says Raiton. "We can adjust the plan as we go."

Tonro sniffs. "This is a bad idea."

"Come on, Tonro." Maque takes his hand and they begin their trip to unfamiliar territory.

Raiton knows that together, they can do nearly anything.


	35. In His Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jezreel and Nachte haven't always been on good terms.

Miinda is packing Jezreel's things when he comes back from breakfast. "What are you doing?"

Her face is tearstained when she turns to him. "Master Inan has decided another domicile is where you should be."

Jezreel suddenly doubts this is real, tries squeezing his eyes shut before opening them. "Oh, Shoshunii!" He pinches himself. "This has to be a dream!" 

Miinda sniffles.

"Why is he sending me away?"

Miinda shakes her head. "I wish I knew."

xXx

When he's packed up, he's brought before Inan. There's another boy who's packed up, Jezreel has seen him but he doesn't really know who he is.

"Have we crossed you in some way?" Asks the boy, a brunette with sad eyes.

Inan shakes his head. "If I do not send you away, it is I that will soon cross _you._ "

At their confused looks, he says, "If a man tries to befriend you, be kind but always be wary." 

They still don't understand. But as far as Inan is concerned, they'll understand when they're older. He can feel his body's reaction when he nears them. Disgust for himself surges hot.  
He presses it down, keeps them unaware of what's going on.

He's gentle when he clasps metal rings over their upper arms, tries not to let his touch linger. Jezreel's left and Nachte's right.

Both boys look at the rings curiously, but only Nachte asks, "What are these for?"

"I have come to realize that you two are to be paired."

Jezreel crinkles his nose. "Paired? Like birds for egg season?"

Nachte turns pale, begins shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Master Inan. But I wanted to be paired with a girl."

Inan rolls his eyes. "Where Jezreel goes, Nachte will go. Where Nachte goes, Jezreel will go."

At Nachte's pout, Inan sighs. "You're to be as close as brothers. But not closer."

"So we aren't going to be like birds during egg season?"

He stands, allows the metal to grow hot. Nachte hisses, tries to tear it off. The fabric wrapped around the outside of the band keeps him from burning himself. Jezreel snarls, body shuddering as it tries to take its father's form.

Inan can only wonder why his father isn't around. Although he has his suspicions.

After what must feel like forever to the boys, the metal cools. Inan lets himself feel the heavy guilt as he looks at the boys gasping on the neat white tile. The bands drop off by themselves, revealing a brand neither boy understands.

"This charm lasts ten years," Says Inan. Jezreel bares his teeth.

"Hopefully, you two will know how to work together by then."

"Why are you doing this to us?" Inan can hear the clacking of the boy's teeth when he speaks. 

"It isn't only you," Says Inan. "Every boy your age is being sent out. Every boy is bonded."

Nachte is finally able to pull himself through the haze of pain. "Why are we being bonded?"

"Because I can't afford for you lot to be picked off like curious yoksa chicks."

xXx

They sit back to back, letting Inan's assistants shave the sides of their heads.  
The pair beside them has long enough hair that it's braided.

The brand on their arms is different, Jezreel notices. He wonders why.

Miinda cries when he wraps his arms around her. The bond pulls both of them tight so Nachte stands to the side a little awkwardly, trying to give them privacy as best he can.

Jezreel hands her a Mokk'et with all the intricate beading an eleven-year-old is capable of. "When I come back, I'll marry you."

She tearfully smiles at him, kisses him on the forehead, and watches them go.

xXx

There's only one other pair sent to Keava. It makes Nachte nervous. Although maybe he's always nervous.

They share a bed for a week, the charm itching in a maddening way when Jezreel tries to sleep in his own bed. He hates how amplified Nachte's breathing is when he lies next to him at night in the dark.

Nachte has no trouble sleeping with another body in the bed, was the youngest of three. So he's used to it.

But Jezreel is an only child with excellent senses.

Prayer and meditation is done at least twice a day, sometimes more, depending on how devout they are to Shoshunii - The god of self control.

Breakfast and lunch are served but no one eats evening meal as a type of fast. They're only allowed to drink water, no sahkmeh or beverages made from fruit juice.

As the weeks progress, the bond slackens. They can, eventually, go to opposite ends of the Temple without feeling anxious or an unscratchable itch. 

They train together, absorb everything like sponges, under Keava and her Assistants.

xXx

"You're a Half Breed," One of the bigger boys says to Jezreel. This boy, Ketjeer, is one of the biggest Full Bloods in the group.

He's still smaller than Jezreel. Both in musculature and in height. Nachte doesn't have to respond. Doesn't have to stand up for Jezreel.

Because, at thirteen, Jezreel's teeth are sharper, even if his tongue is dull. He snorts. "What about it?"

"Your blood is dirty. Nobody wants you. Especially not us."

"You're just mad that I have the uppermost hand come Fall." When they go to the Neutral Trading Grounds in the Fall, Females look for Males to mate with. 

Nachte won't be getting anything unless Jezreel hands a Female off to him.

Ketjeer would be flocked to if it weren't for the Half Breed, assuming they won't be able to tell a mile away that he isn't a regular Male. 

It'll be their first Fall in which Females mean anything to them, so Nachte doesn't know if they'll flock toward Jezreel or away.

The boy scowls. "No you won't." The other children are obviously intimidated when Jezreel smiles, all teeth and aggression that they haven't yet come into. 

"Watch me." Then, he turns on his heel and leisurely paces away from them. Nachte falls into step beside, so close his shoulder brushes against Jezreel's elbow. He really isn't going to be catching the eye of a Female this year. Keava says he'll probably shoot up like a weed in another year or two.

But he'll always be in Jezreel's shadow. Literally and figuratively. "What were you thinking, Jez? We're supposed to integrate. Not ostracize ourselves."

"First of all, I don't want to be pushed around by a little fuck who doesn't know anything." He pushes the door open.

Nachte slips in. "Don't let Keava hear you talk like that. You'll be fasting for two weeks." _And so will I_ , comes the unspoken complaint.

Jezreel lopes in after him. "Second," He says like Nachte didn't just tell him what to do. Anyone else would have to be knocked down a notch. "I've no idea what 'ostrocleeze'-"

"Ostracize."

"-Means."

Nachte sighs. "You're an idiot."

Jez smiles. "But I'm your idiot."

"Unfortunately." Even if he doesn't want to, Nachte will always claim him.

xXx

It's a few weeks later when Ketjeer pushes Jezreel from behind.

In effort to keep the Half-Breed from making a fool of himself, Nachte grabs his wrist. "We should go."

"No." It comes out low, like a growl. They've been taking all sorts of crap from this boy, the sort of thing either they'd be a meek to point out or they couldn't prove he did.

"Half Breeds and their Yonas belong at the back," He says.

Jezreel turns then, teeth bared, eyes taking a form Nachte recognizes, has only seen once or twice but that was all he ever _needed_ to see them. "Don't you dare talk about Nachte like that."

And Nachte is just as surprised as the other boys. But for completely different reasons. His voice has a rough quality that makes Nachte avidly resist wringing his hands. "Not here," He whispers. "People are going to see." Nachte hates to admit it, but Jezreel's other form - The one inherited from his father - shames them both. He tries not to show it because his friend can't help what he is.

He didn't choose his blood.

So it isn't fair for Nachte to openly despise it.

Especially since everyone else seems to. "You aren't just a Half Breed," Says Ketjeer, leaning in to get a better look at his rival. "You're a monster." He's sure to say it loud enough others can hear.

Nachte can't bear to see who else is looking at them now, closes his eyes.

He can't abandon Jezreel, but he doesn't want to stand next to him either. The band burns in a way it hasn't in forever.

Jezreel turns his back to the boy, then. Lightly pushes Nachte further towards the line that has moved away from them during their little chat.

"Jez," Whispers Nachte.

"Just shut up," Says Jezreel. His voice is watery. He's trying to keep it together.

Trying not to embarrass Nachte any further.

xXx

It's a couple of weeks before Fall and everything, as far as Jezreel is concerned, has smoothed out.

Nachte has gone quiet, so maybe things aren't as smoothed out as they could be. Jezreel thinks he's just anxious about the new season and afraid of rejection, but he can never be sure with Nachte, whose thoughts run a million miles a second and appear out of the blue. Jezreel just can't predict what his friend will say.

They're in the training yard but Jezreel has stopped to rest, is pretending to meditate so Keava doesn't yell at him.

Nachte is powering through his forms.

"Slow down, Nachte," Says Homu, adjusting the stance of another student. "I can't see how clean your forms are."

Nachte sighs. "There's nothing to see."

"Then do it again," Says Homu. "Slower." 

Nachte is reluctant, sighs, and starts again, pausing between each stance.

"There it is," Says Homu, his hands making minor adjustments to Nachte's stance, hands lingering in a way that makes Jezreel's hair stand on end. Nachte doesn't seem to notice, entirely intent on the corrections.

xXx

"You shouldn't let Homu help you." Says Jezreel after training. They take the left corridor through the Women's Wing. A route one of Nachte's friends insisted was the fastest way through the Temple.

Nachte gives him a glance. "Why?"

"Because something is wrong with him."

He tries not to feel hurt when Nachte's expression says, _And you're normal?_ "He's a creep, okay?"

"Keava doesn't train 'creeps.'"

"She trained you," He blurts.

Nachte laughs, smiles for the first time in weeks. Everything is straightened out.

Until Ketjeer comes in between them and the door to the bathing room. "You outsiders are bonded, aren't you?"

Jezreel turns sideways just slightly so the old charm isn't visible to the other boy, scrunches his nose. "What's it to you?"

Ketjeer looks genuinely curious. "If one of you dies, does the other?"

Nachte rolls his shoulders, thinking it's innocent enough. "It's plausible, I suppose. Things like this are complicated but considering we're practically forced to stay in each other's space, one could assume-"

"Nachte!" Says Jezreel. "Please."

Ketjeer darts forward, towards Nachte, knife sliding from his sleeve. 

It's only a moment.

But that's all it takes for the knife to slide along the floor, bouncing off Nachte's foot. Ketjeer is also on the floor, clutching his broken wrist, Jezreel standing over him. "Try that again and I'll have your fucking blood."

Ketjeer brushes past them, disappears down the hall.

"I hate that you feel the need to mother me."

"I'm bigger with sharper teeth. People take me a lot more seriously."

"I don't care about being taken seriously. I care that you don't trust me to watch my own back."

"It isn't your job to watch your back," Says Jezreel. "It's your job to watch mine."

Nachte sighs, pockets Ketjeer's knife.

"You giving that back to him?"

"Finder's keeper's."

"If you say so." 

"And I do."

xXx

The day before travel, everyone runs to and fro, trying to be where they're supposed to.

Jezreel is packing, almost idly when his body hair starts to stand on edge.

Something is wrong. And not just a-hitch-in-the-plan wrong.

He tries not to seem panicked when he goes looking for Nachte, his internal compass guiding him. 

When he eases into the bathing room, there's grunting and the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Someone hisses.

At first, Jezreel thinks his instincts are seriously messed up, turns to slip out and say he never knew what Nachte was doing.

"Not so sure of yourself without your pet freak, are you?" Asks Ketjeer.

Another boy snickers, Ketjeer's Second, Jezreel thinks. When Nachte doesn't reply, Jezreel knows he can't leave.

He crouches low, eases to the source of the sounds.

The Second is kicking Nachte under the gaze of Ketjeer. The Half-breed can feel his hackles rising. Is furious that Nachte isn't fighting back.

Ketjeer's knife dances along his skin. "I almost feel bad." Nachte stares, baleful. The knife draws a red line along his cheek. "Survival of the fittest though, right?"

The knife draws downwards, makes little marks on his shoulder and chest. Jezreel feels those cuts as if they were planted on his own skin.

He makes eye contact with Nachte, realizes his eyes are clouded and he has a head wound.

Oh, Shoshunii.

Ketjeer runs his tongue along the lines he's drawn. This snaps Jezreel into action. Ketjeer spins, knife arcing at a diagonal, Jezreel steps back, slips and falls on his ass in time to miss the club the Second has swung towards the back of his head, rolls to avoid a blow to his face.

"Keep him busy," Says Ketjeer. "I'll finish the other one." 

Jezreel is barely able to make out his own words. "Don't you touch him!"

He doesn't know what happened between then and now, his teeth are clamped into Ketjeer's shoulder.

The boy's voice hurts his suddenly more sensitive ears as he screams. Jezreel feels the knife sink into his own shoulder once, twice, three times and he, not even sure why, gives Ketjeer a shake. The tang of blood stirs something deep inside. Rouses something Jezreel never knew was there.

There's a crunching of bones as Jezreel seeks that sweet metallic taste.

Blinding pain slices into his hind quarter and he turns to seek the Second's blood, coming face to face with Keava. She looks ready to kill him. "Jezreel. Take your bipedal form."

A shiver runs through him as he takes in the white fur and paws in the stead of skin, hands, and feet.

When did he change?

There's a whip in Keava's hand, she gestures at him with it. "Don't make me tell you again." 

Bones realign, fur twists in on itself, becomes skin.

His muzzle decreases.

Ketjeer stares at him with an expression Jezreel isn't sure he's ever had directed at him before.

He feels slightly sick when he finds a piece of flesh stuck between his teeth. Keava is watching him like he might change back and murder them all. Hell, he never even knew he could take it that far. 

"He-He just tried to kill me," Gasps Ketjeer.

"Anything to say for yourself?" Asks Keava.

Jezreel points to a half-awake Nachte. "They were going to kill him." 

Keava nods to her Assistants, they lift both boys onto carriers and take them to the infirmary.

Keava takes a long minute, laces all but her index fingers and presses them against her lips. "I should end you here."

"Please, don't," Says Jezreel. "I'm afraid of what will happen to Nachte."

She stares hard at him, searching for guile. "You can't stay here."

"I can't leave Nachte. There's another eight years before the charm wears off."

"When he is healed, you must leave." 

Jezreel, under house arrest, doesn't go to the Trading Grounds.

But neither does Ketjeer.

xXx

At the gates, Nachte presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. "I can't _believe_ you did this to us!"

"I'm sorry, okay."

"No," Says Nachte. "It isn't okay! Why can't you ever keep that thing under control?!" 

"That _thing_ is me, Nachte."

"I don't care if it's your grandmother! Sometimes I wish I was bonded to anyone but you!"

"And sometimes I wish I could have let Ketjeer murder your skinny ass!"

Nachte pushes him, doesn't budge him an inch. "He wouldn't have had to murder me if you'd never been born!"

Jezreel recoils at that, runs his tongue along his top teeth and gazes to the left. As much as Nachte wants to be sorry, he isn't. He's heard what the adults called Jezreel.

An abomination.

Heard them ask each other why no one killed him when he was young enough to cry for his mother's breast.

And Jezreel seems to be aware of it, too.

"Sometimes," Jezreel says, his voice is tight, "I wish I were dead, too."

Nachte does feel sorry then. But he's too mad to say anything.

Jezreel trails behind him silently as Nachte walks in the direction of Kuden's palace. He's probably crying. And that knowledge makes Nachte feel like an utter bastard.

xXx

Nachte tosses wood on the fire, glances at Jezreel and sighs. "Shoshunii, stop wasting water, you cry baby."

Jezreel glares at him, but there's no heat to it. "Don't act like a naresuan and then tell me not to be upset."

"I can't help it. We've been walking for hours and if you keel over from dehydration before we get the chance to refill our canteens, I am going to be pissed as hell."

Jezreel rolls his eyes. "Because you aren't already pissed as hell."

"I'm trying to get over it, okay?"

"Right." 

"Right," Says Nachte. "Now get over here, dumbass, before I freeze to death."

Jezreel is reluctant to sit next to him, the brands on their upper arms lightly touching. It eases both of them slightly. A small comfort.

Nachte is always going to be in Jezreel's shadow. Both literally and figuratively.

And in this moment, and every moment after, he's going to try to be okay with that.


	36. The Things That Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse of where Nishi and Yamna begin....  
> And where Jezreel ends.

"Get over here, you little tiny quajen!"  
Jezreel has never heard a bonded speak to their partner like that before.  
On the other hand, Nishi and Yamna are anything but normal.  
Nishi is effeminate and small framed which forces him to have higher aggression, other Full Bloods learn in five minutes not to fuck with Nishi.  
Yamna, in contrast is about average in height and build.

But faints at the sight of blood and frequently relies on Nishi to get him out of just about everything.  
So, Jezreel lets the verbal abuse slide. Yamna really does need to man up a little.  
Nachte nudges against him. "I'm sorry I ever spoke to you that way."  
Jezreel doesn't really need an apology from Nachte, is long over their dark years.  
Yamna is still hanging back, away from the scorched once-village. "There are dead people in there," He whines.  
Nishi scowls. "Get your ass over here or so **help** me-!"  
Yamna, head low, dawdles as he approaches. "What if they try to get us for disturbing them?"  
"Then we kill them dead."  
Yamna hops from one foot to the other, it's pretty comical. "Niiiiishiiii!"  
"Bye, Yamna. We'll see you next year," He says. "Or eventually." When he turns, grabbing both Nachte and Jezreel, as he walks into what's left of the Refuge. Yamna tangles his hands in his hair, hops from one foot to the other again. Jezreel pities him slightly.  
When it's clear Nishi is going to leave him, he powers to the center of the group and stays there.  
Nishi shakes his head. "Finally, you quajen."  
Jezreel is perplexed as to why any sane person would bond these two.  
Himself and Nachte, he will grudgingly admit makes sense. Nachte is bright as hell. Smarter than most - Even if his mouth and brain are clearly connected in all the wrong places. And Jezreel can be smart. But he's really just the brawn to Nachte's brain.  
"It's deserted," Says Nachte.  
Jezreel can't smell anything other than smouldering ash, can't hear anything over Yamna's frantic breathing.  
"We should move on," Says Nishi. His voice is pitched higher than any other man Jezreel has met. Maybe that doesn't mean much.

 

"What?" Asks Jezreel. "Worried we'll make fun of your dick?"  
"That's funny coming from _you_ ," Says Nishi, wearing his undershorts into the shallow river with them. It's waist deep and they're all guys. Nudity means little to them.  
Well most of them. "Does your dick change when you do that bear thing?"  
Nishi, weirdly, isn't mocking him. He's respected Jezreel ever since he saved them by changing and killing a giant Luuma - A scaleless snake - covered in bare skin, with only a set of clawed forelegs and moderate intelligence.  
If it hadn't been for Jezreel, they would have had a slow, agonizing death.  
"Yeah," He says when he realizes Nishi and Yamna are waiting on a response.  
Nishi draws his ears back, tilts his head.  
"No, I'm not showing you my form again," Says Jezreel. Nishi thinks it's awesome. But one of twenty Females he meets want anything to do with him when they discover what he is.  
Yamna seems relieved that Jezreel doesn't use his trick very often. And he'd feel hurt if Yamna wasn't afraid of his own shadow.

 

When he wakes, he's aware that he's alone, in the dark with an obnoxiously snoring Yamna.  
He wants, so badly, to smother him awake.

But there's a more pressing issue to deal with.

As he rises to his knees in their makeshift shelter, he catches a whiff of something very familiar, it's agonizing when he can't place it. Frightening when he realizes it's strongest on Nishi's bedding.  
He throws blanket upon blanket over Yamna, hoping he'll look like a piece of bedding should anything approach the oblivious coward.  
Slipping out, he tries to locate Nachte. He's sorry to admit the man he's bonded to comes first.  
As he creeps through the trees, mindful that he's easy prey in nothing but his shorts, he catches the same smell that was in Nishi's blankets.  
His internal compass takes him down to the river, into a copse of trees.  
There's heavy breathing, whispering. Jezreel feels anxiety trying to make its home in his stomach.  
Nachte is breathless when he speaks to whomever he's with - Nishi, likely.  
Jezreel can feel his eyes trying to pop out of his skull when they are finally laid upon Nachte and Nishi.  
There's a lot more skin than the Half Breed has ever wanted to see in this context.  
He turns sharply, smacks into a branch and hisses a curse at the damn murderous tree.  
"Oh, fuck. Jez?"  
"Nope," Says Jezreel. "Just a wandering sprite returning home after a long night of _What-the-fuck._ "  
Nishi, straddling Nachte's lap, snorts. "Vouyer?"  
"Fucking never," Says Jezreel. "You two never deemed it necessary to tell me you were taking advantage of the Fall Season."  
"The Fall Season is for opposite sex couples, stupid."  
"Nishi!"  
"That's right. Say my name- _Oof!_ " The sound of Nishi hitting his ass on the forest floor brings pleasure to Jezreel.  
It's not that he's jealous, really. Nachte can bed whomever he wants.

But the very **idea** that Nachte likes men.....

Jezreel knows how Nachte feels about him, now. Shame. Guilt because of the shame. And a touch of anger.  
When Nachte grabs his arm, he pulls away. "You could have told me I was sending the wrong gender to you year after year."  
Nachte takes hold of his wrist. "It isn't what you think it is, Jez."  
"Riiight."  
He can practically hear the eye roll when Nachte sighs.  
"H-hey," Says Nishi. Like Nachte is about to say something Nishi doesn't want to be said.  
Nachte comes into his line of vision. There's some message he wants to convey with his eyes. "It _isn't_ what it looks like." Too bad Jezreel is a horrible mind reader.

Nishi is striding shirtless like the rest of them on an uncharacteristically hot day, Jezreel notices that they don't act like a couple around Yamna. Nachte is subtle when his eyes roam Nishi, who glances at him with sly smiles.  
Nishi and Yamna are ahead of them, talking and laughing about some weird inside joke between them.  
"I'm sorry, okay?" Says Nachte. His voice is kept low.  
"When were you going to tell me you..." Jezreel feels bad that he is so disgusted with the idea, he can't even say the word for it. "Had a different preference?"  
"I don't!" It comes out as a hiss. "When are you going to believe me?"  
"When you open your eyes and realize that you're _gay_ ," Jezreel spits the word by pure accident. Nachte recoils slightly, "and you're having - you're expressing it with Nishi and you didn't even **trust** me enough to say anything!"  
Nachte's hands clench then. He stops and faces Jezreel, skin flushed with barely contained anger. "Listen you stubborn bastard. Nishi isn't a-" He slaps his hands over his mouth. Jezreel pauses, can't wait to hear Nachte talk his way out of this one. The other man breathes deep, closes his eyes for a long minute before opening them. Jezreel likes the blue-green color they are. His hands drop and he swallows. "I trust you. I trust you a lot. But Nishi wasn't ready for you... For Yamna to know."  
Jezreel sort of understands it. Yamna would have an utter breakdown and think Nishi was doing things to him in his sleep or some stupid shit like that.  
But why doesn't Nishi trust him?  
He's rutting with Nachte, who - at least somewhat - trusts him. It weren't as though he could slay either of them for this.  
Oh, Shoshunii, what else was Nachte keeping from him? Was it bad enough that he would slay them?  
"Hey," Says Yamna. "Why don't you slowpokes catch up?"  
Nachte and Jezreel will have to finish this conversation later.

 

"What's wrong with him?" Asks Nishi when Nachte presses an arm against Jezreel's forehead.  
"Not sure."  
He knows he's feverish, his muscles ache, strain to stay in this form and take the other. Have been for two days straight now.  
"Can you hear me, Jez?" Whispers Nachte.  
"Yes." Jezreel thinks he's wheezing. Shoshunii, what's wrong with him?  
"I told you we should have stayed another night in that town!"  
"Shut up, Yamna."  
He feels hot and cold and sweaty. He's dying, isn't he?  
Nachte wipes his forehead with a wet cloth. "Nishi. I need you to get us a healer."  
Nishi squats near Jezreel, pats his face. "We'll get you through this, Jez. Just hold on."  
Yamna goes, too. Sobbing about how he and Nishi ought'nt to be alone.  
There's nothing Jezreel or Nachte can do.  
"I'm sorry." Jezreel manages when they're gone. "I couldn't.... accept you for what you are."  
Nachte sighs, grips his hand. "You still can't, stupid."  
"That doesn't mean I don't love you, Nachte." He gives his friend's hand a squeeze. Gains enough control of his body to smile. "No homo."  
"God, I should smother you."

The doctor shakes his head. "I'm sorry but I can't let him live."  
"What's wrong with him?" Asks Nishi, blocking the doctor's way out.  
"His hormones are wrong. Imbalanced. His body is going to give out soon because it is confused as to which form it should take. His organs will burst from the stress."  
"Can he just switch from one to the other? Can it be that simple?" Asks Nachte.  
The healer shakes his head. "Try to make him comfortable. He won't last more than a few days. I can get you a sedative. It'll be less horrific."  
Nishi snarls. "Fix him."  
"It isn't so easy."  
"Then make it so," Says Yamna.  
"No. There's a reason Skin-Walkers are forbidden from interbreedering and I won't encourage it."  
Nachte takes hold of the healer then. "You will try. Or I will skin you while you beg for mercy." The other pair closes in as emphasis.  
"Okay! Okay!" Says the doctor, his voice making a strange warbling sound that Nachte finds he appreciates.

The pills ease everything.  
From the aches he's learned to ignore since puberty, to the shuddering of his body, to the new pain of wounds that have inexplicably appeared.  
The doctor says it was his body literally tearing itself apart.  
When the doctor scurries out, Nachte grabs him by the collar. "Don't go too far, we aren't through with you."  
The doctor bares his teeth and Nachte releases him.

The next two days are spent getting Jezreel back to traveling condition.  
Then they're on the road again.  
"Where should we go?" Nishi wonders.  
Jezreel shrugs. "Wherever makes you happy."  
"Can we visit a Human town?" Asks Yamna. "I would love to see them."  
"So you can cower and beg them not to kill you when one of the men so much as looks at you?" Snarks Nishi.  
In the tavern, Jezreel keeps his head on the table, trying to drink but really not up to it.  
Nishi takes the mug from his hand. "What a quajen." Jezreel watches with envy as Nishi downs it in one swift go.  
"Jeez," Says Nachte. "Slow down, Nishi. Who are you competing against?"  
"Myself."  
"That's stupid."  
"So are you," Says Nishi.  
A girl, fine blonde hair and soft eyes settles herself, lightly, at their table, smiles sweetly. "Any of you handsome men want to buy me a drink?"  
Nishi laughs. "Yeah- No."  
Jezreel would, but he's not in the mood to let her return the favour with some classic two-back-beasting.  
Yamna is broke (as always.)  
"Why not?" Says Nachte.  
Both Jezreel and Nishi watch them swagger over to the bar.  
Nishi has a white knuckled grip on his mug.  
"I wouldn't worry about him," Says Jezreel like he doesn't know how often they copulate. "I think he's gay."  
Yamna slams his hands on the table. "What?! I knew it!"  
"You don't know shit," Says Nishi.  
Jezreel finds this whole thing kind of funny.  
The glass in Nishi's hand shatters when the girl kisses Nachte on the cheek.  
Yamna jumps back, knocks his chair over. "Don't kill us!"  
Nishi gives him a look. "Sit your ass down. You're making a scene."  
When Nachte and the girl return and sit at the table, Jezreel's partner looks at the shattered glass on the table and rolls his head on his neck. "God, Nishi, learn to hold your liquor."  
"I'm Triska," Says the girl before Nishi can say anything hurtful.  
Jezreel, technically at the top of the would-be hierarchy, introduces himself first. Nachte, if he weren't already introduced, would have gone next, Nishi introduces himself instead. Yamna complains about them making him go last but at the dangerous look he gets from Nishi, he behaves himself.  
Her eyes close, head tilting. "It's nice to meet you."  
"So where did you come from before this?" Asks Jezreel, chin on his folded arms.  
"The Pride. Father, that bastard accused me of some things and the rest of them - Gullible sheep to a wolf, they are - believed him. They chased me out and I'm surprised I made it alive."  
"What did they accuse you of?" Asks Nishi.  
"Oh," Says Triska, eyes filling with tears. "It's too horrible to repeat." When Jezreel searches her face for guile, he finds it.  
Although, he hopes he's just reading too much into her expression.  
She somehow, ends up joining their little group.  
"Maybe we can start our own Pack!" Says Yamna. "We can call it, _the Herd!_ "  
"Why in God's name would you...." Mutters Nishi in exasperation.  
"Or," Says Triska. "The Bonds!"  
"Um," Says Nachte. "Creating a Pack requires land. Who wants to go to war with a real Clan?"  
"Not me," Says Jezreel.  
Triska looks at him. "You could totally go toe to toe with Chiikets and you don't want to start your own bloodline, legacy, or even Clan that will continue after you?"  
"Nope," Says Jezreel.  
"It's touchy," Says Nachte in reply to the odd look she takes.  
"Oh," She says.

He lies down beside Jezreel in the dark, as creepy as it is, he knows it's Nachte by the way he walks, breathes and which direction he pulls the blankets when he slips under them.  
"I had a horrible dream," He whispers. His bare hand tangles in Jezreel's hair.  
"Did you?"  
"I had a dream that Nishi and Yamna were killed in front of us."  
Jezreel's hand on his thigh probably seems half-assed for comfort. But hugs are off limits when it comes to Nachte.  
"Then eschneider got you. Shoshunii, Jez. They were _eating_ you while you were still alive and-"  
"It's over. It was just a dream. Nishi and Yamna are safe and I'm utterly unbitten."  
Nachte lies facing him, blue-green eyes searching his in the dark. "Promise you aren't dead?"  
"I promise, Nachte."  
They lie there like that for a long time. And Jezreel knows that Nachte can see him drifting off. "Jez?"  
"Mmm?" It's more of a grunt than a response. Sleep is rushing up like flood water to meet him.  
"No homo."  
He can't resist a smile. "I love you, Nachte."

"Nishi?" Asks Jezreel as he comes into the other man's room.  
When Nishi steps out of the bathroom nude, he hisses, tries to hide himself.  
But it's too late.  
Jezreel feels like an utter moron. Nachte has been telling the truth for the last year and a half. Nishi's pubis has no sign of masculinity.  
"You're a woman," Says Jezreel before Nishi can make it back to the bathroom and never come out again.  
She turns to him then, eyes dark, lips firmly closed. Shoshunii, everything makes sense now.  
Jezreel still feels like an idiot. "I thought you were ashamed of your dick. Thought maybe someone had done something bad to it."  
Nishi sighs. "You can't tell anyone."  
"Why?"  
She keeps her back to him. "You just, can't. Got it?"  
"Have you been having sex with Nachte to keep your scent under wraps?"  
"It was getting bad. Nachte offered with no strings attached."  
Ironically, Jezreel can clearly see the strings.  
They're fine threads that mean Nachte cares about Nishi.  
And Nishi really cares about Nachte.  
Jezreel has plenty more questions but it's in this moment that Yamna stampedes in. "Nishi! There's a bug in my bathtub! I tried throwing things at it but it just won't die!"  
"Just wait then. I'll get dressed and kill it."  
Jezreel wonders if Yamna knows. He has to, right?  
When Nishi shuts the door firmly behind him- er, her, Yamna pops his neck. "Why are you in the same room with Nishi while he's naked?"  
"Is that a capital offense?"  
"No." Yamna's voice drops. "But you know how Nishi is about people seeing him in the buff."  
"Especially since he's not a he."  
Yamna gives him a horrified look. "I know Nishi looks feminine. He just can't seem to temper it. Don't get the wrong idea." Yamna twiddles his thumbs. "The last group we were in, the leader tried to hurt Nishi during the Fall Season because he believed Nishi was a girl. It still gives me nightmares."  
Why was Nishi lying in the first place? "He tried to force Nishi to lie under him?"  
"The only thing that saved us was our leader's Chosen. We left after that."  
"Did you defend Nishi?"  
Yamna's only response is to raise his shirt, baring an old, jagged scar that's stretched across his middle.

Nishi doesn't change. Even with Triska around. But she doesn't like Triska, so Jezreel isn't surprised.  
And Triska, while interesting, is hiding something just as big as Nishi.  
It's bad that everybody is hiding something from everybody else.  
Worse that Triska makes him nervous.  
He's relieved that Yamna actually does defend Nishi when it's needed, even if he's only as violent as a meek.

"So I've been thinking we should do some hooking up with some ladies," Says Yamna when Fall begins it's approach.  
"You can," Says Jezreel. While Yamna can do what he wants, the Half Breed would be the apex predator if this were a real Clan. His blessing is an important one.  
Nishi shrugs. "I guess it'd be kinda fun."  
Triska looks exasperated. "So what? Am I suddenly not a lady now that I've joined up?"  
"Nobody wants your dirty quajen," Says Nishi.  
Nachte smacks her on the arm. "Not cool." To Triska, he says, "We think of you as family now. So sex with you is sort of awkward."  
Triska quirks a brow at Jezreel who shrugs. "Sorry."  
It's not that he doesn't find Triska attractive, he's just worried she's going to pull some trick out of her sleeve at the last moment and make everybody sorry.

"Why don't you have tits?" He asks Nishi. They're both watching the Yoksa chick she picked up in the Spring circle in the air above them.  
"My mother desperately wanted a boy." Is all that comes out. "Someone eventually intervened. Paired me with Yamna so that I could come out of my shell."  
"Did you?"  
"Yamna used to be different," She says. The bird of prey lands, somewhat forcefully, on Nishi's shoulder. "He made me the person I always wanted to be."  
"You don't have to be a man to do that."  
Nishi strokes the yoksa's head. It makes a strange little noise and flutters its wings. "I do in this world."

When Jezreel notices the yoksa bird on the floor, unmoving, he knows something is wrong. Nishi has loved it too much to let anything bad happen.  
There's gasping and sobbing.  
Seeing an outsider on top of Nishi makes him queasy. Seeing Yamna unmoving nearby makes him so angry he feels dizzy. When he goes to change, the man looks up.  
Jezreel is suddenly in limbo, unable to fully take one form or the other. The pain that comes with it makes it hard to focus.  
He doesn't know when Nachte came in, or even how he found them.  
But he is shocked when Nachte cuts open the back of the man's neck and throws him to the ground.  
Jezreel is instantly released into his mother's form.  
The man can do nothing as Nachte tears him open with his blade and Jezreel can't bare to watch when Nachte cuts the outsider's dick off.  
When the man's eyes lose their light, Nachte is breathing heavily, painted with blood. Nishi is still crying.  
And Yamna is still unconscious.  
He watches Nachte's shoulders go from squared to slumped as he checks Yamna's pulse. "He's still with us."  
Nishi practically crawls over, wraps Yamna in her arms and pulls his head against her breast. She looks like hell has just chewed her up and spit her out.  
Nachte touches her hair, kept short to keep the masculine image. She sobs into his shirt.

When they're settled into bed beside one another, Nishi finally stops crying. There's a hiccup or a sniffle every now and again, but she's mostly quiet.  
Nachte slides the door shut, sits in front of it. "Yamna isn't waking up."  
"I know," Says Jezreel. "Let's give it a little more time."  
"How did he even get in? There's no way he could have fought and won with two against one, Jez."  
"Triska." It slips out as the thought appears.  
"What?"  
"Have you seen her? I'm worried she's been harmed as well."  
Nachte shakes his head. "I'd help you look, but-"  
"Don't worry. You keep them under guard and I'll see if she's okay."  
He searches the house and finds her in the yard. "Are you okay?"  
"Never better," She says. At first, he thinks it's sarcasm. That the outsider has raped her, too. But her pupils are blown wide when she looks at him.  
"Have you been drugged?"  
"Opium is a beautiful thing."  
Jezreel is taken aback by that. "But it's bad for your body. You'll get sick using it."  
"I haven't this far."  
"That's because you're too high to tell."  
She shrugs.  
"Did the intruder hurt you?" Asks Jezreel.  
"No. Did he hurt you?"  
"No. Nishi and Yamna are injured. Do you know anything about that?"  
"Yamna wasn't supposed to get hurt."  
He can feel his blood chill. "Was Nishi?"  
"He said he just wanted to know if he was a girl."  
He kneels in front of Triska, takes her by the shoulders. "Did you plan this?"  
She blinks slowly at him. "Where are we?"

When Nishi starts screaming in the middle of the night, Jezreel gets up. Even though he thinks it's probably nightmares.  
Entering, he finds Nachte trying to revive Yamna. "He's not breathing, Jez." His tone says, _Do something!_  
Nishi is trying to breathe air into his lungs, Nachte is pressing down.  
But Jezreel is at an utter loss. There's no time for a healer to get there. No real way to make him breathe again other than what they're doing. If Jezreel tries it, he'll break Yamna's ribs by accident.  
Eventually, Nachte takes his pulse, lets out a shuddering breath and takes Nishi by the arm before she can try to breathe life into him again. "He's gone."  
"No," Says Nishi. "No. Yamna!" She's gripping his shirt, burying her face in his chest. Screaming her grief to him. Nachte and Jezreel are silent, letting Nishi alone in her pain.  
Jezreel is left to wonder if he or Nachte will die first. Will it be in good circumstances or bad? Will they cry for the other the way Nishi is doing or just walk away and turn the house into a funeral pyre?  
A glance at Nachte says he's, at least partially, thinking the same thing.

"Did you and Yamna talk about what you wanted to do if the other died?" Asks Nachte.  
Triska is sitting at the table with them, eating her breakfast with the zeal of a five year old.  
Like they didn't just lose one of their own.  
Her pupils are still huge, though. So Jez tries to remember she's not all there.  
Nishi shakes her head. "No. We never thought about it once."  
"Then let's pick a nice place to bury him, okay?" Asks Jezreel, reaching across the table and taking Nishi's hand.  
The place she picks is out in a field. Yamna's favorite flower blooms in abundance here.  
Triska is off chasing butterflies, oblivious to Nachte and Jezreel digging a grave through blurry, tear-filled vision.  
"Triska goes next," Whispers Nachte.  
"Tempting," Says Jezreel.  
Nishi is laying beside him in the field when they're ready to lay him in the dirt. He's wrapped in Jezreel's blanket, settled into a box that's made of sweet smelling wood. Letters are put into the box before Jezreel seals it. They don't read them out loud.  
It's a struggle, between the effort not to just drop him into the hole and keeping a hold on their grief until they're done, they've exhausted themselves.  
They dig a space for the marker next. Dripping with perspiration in the hot summer as they work to slide the marker, a thin, rectangular stone with his name etched into it, into the hole, packing the dirt tight around the bottom so it stays standing. The stone has a rack chiseled onto the top so they can hang things on it.  
Nishi hangs a long flower chain over it, intertwining it with the juts of the stone.  
Nachte strokes her hair as he settles a stone with Yamna's favorite poem on it.  
"He always wanted me to stop being something I wasn't," Says Nishi.  
"Now is as good a time as any," Says Nachte.  
Over time, Nishi's clothes become more feminine, she still wears gloves instead of a Mokk'et but lets her hair grow out and Jezreel buys her another yoksa bird.  
She names it Yamna.

"So, what do you wanna do after lunch?" Nishi has become pretty hot over the year. And even though she's (openly) Nachte's, Jezreel does tend to look her over.  
But he knows better than to touch. "Want to head down to the lake?"  
"In this weather?" Asks Triska.  
It's freezing and they're all bundled up, walking back from taking care of Yamna's grave. It still hurts like a bitch.  
But they're getting used to it.  
"Yeah!" Says Nishi. "Let's throw caution to the wind! Isn't an occasional dip in cold water good for you?"  
"I'm out," Says Nachte.  
"Whimp," Says Nishi.  
"That's ' _quajen_ ' to you."  
Jezreel realizes Nishi hasn't used that word for awhile.  
Hasn't called anybody a pussy in the last several months and that weirds him out.  
"We should start a Clan. For Yamna," Says Triska. There's snow in her lashes and she's only spoken once the entire time. Jezreel wonders how long she's been stewing over this. "If you mate with Females, you can steal them from other Clans. We can build it that way." Speaking of weirdos.  
Nachte shakes the snow from his cloak. The awkward way he does it makes Jezreel think of birds shaking off water. "There's still the issue of land, Triska."  
"We can't roam forever."  
"We can start in the old building," Says Nishi. Yamna settles onto her shoulder and caws in agreement. Jezreel is surprised it doesn't knock her over. "Many people are afraid of that place."  
"But we can't have offspring there," Says Nachte.  
"If we rigged everything right, no one would even know we were there for at least a year."  
"You've been thinking about it?" Asks Nachte.  
"I've been thinking about a safe place to have children. We could hide them there until they're fast enough to run."  
Nachte and Jezreel share a look. "I guess we can try it," Says Jezreel.  
After lunch, they pack their things, charting their course to the center of the island.  
Halfway there, Nishi confesses. "I'm sorry for manipulating you."  
At first, Jezreel is disappointed. Angry.  
"I'm pregnant."  
And then everything makes sense again. She wants a safe place to nest.

When the baby comes, something is wrong and Jezreel can't tell what it is.  
But when he pulls his hand away, Nishi is bleeding.  
"Jez," Says Nachte.  
"I can't," Says Jezreel. There's blood on his hands and Nishi is screaming as the contractions take her. He wishes he could give her his meds to ease her pain.  
"Jezreel!"  
"I'm trying!" Is the only thing Jezreel can say. Because he is. He's doing everything he can and Nishi is slipping through his fingers. He might lose the baby, too, if he isn't careful.  
Nachte takes her hand. "Stay with us, Ni."  
She smiles weakly, Jezreel finally has his hands on the baby as Triska (surprisingly) takes control and, with Nachte's help, fixes whatever is wrong with Nishi.  
At first the baby doesn't give any indication of life.  
When Jezreel cleans him, he still doesn't. When the Half Breed is really starting to panic, he lets out a yowl that makes Jezreel jump. Everyone else looks up.  
"Jeez, Nachte. He sounds just like you."  
Jezreel feels just a touch of jealousy when he watches Nachte take his son in his arms. Wonders what it feels like.  
And the joy on Nishi's face when she and Nachte look to each other makes Jezreel's heart lighter.  
But Nishi dies from fever within the week.

They lie her in the ground next to Yamna. And Nachte is overcome with grief.  
Triska leaves them be for a few days, says she has some business to attend to. She really just needs some alone time, Jezreel thinks. Yamna lands on his shoulder, rests there. He's heavy with sharp claws.  
The baby sleeps between himself and Nachte at night because Nachte genuinely believes Jezreel is next on death's list.  
"Have you thought about a name?" Whispers Jezreel.  
"Maybe after his mother."  
"Nishi is a good name."  
"Maybe Noshiim."  
"Or Nishiir."  
"Yeah."

When Triska returns, she starts showing interest in Jezreel.  
He's both surprised and yet not that she is. But Nachte needs him. Everything else is on the back burner. So when her hand slides up his thigh while they're at a booth, waiting on a meal to take back to Nachte, Jezreel never sees it coming.  
He isn't even sure if he should encourage her or push her away.

Jezreel visits Nachte in the house they used to share with the last two bonded, (Gods how nostalgic.) and finds the boy is startlingly curious.  
He looks like Nishi.  
He also hates Triska. Calls her Aunt Scary Face.  
Jezreel finds it funny but Triska doesn't at all.  
Jezreel can't even remember why they separated but he thinks Nachte unconsciously blames Jezreel for Nishi's death. Jezreel can handle that.

"I sent Naori to Inan," Says Nachte when Jezreel visits again and finds only his friend.  
Jezreel can't help but thin his lips. "I don't think I can agree with that."  
"Miinda is still there. Naori says she's a real hag."  
"Nachte," Says Jezreel. "Inan will make him war fodder."  
"He has signed in blood a promise that Naori will be kept safe."  
"Yes but Inan is a Fall Back. Everything you think you know, you might not."  
Nachte sighs. "I know."

When he brings Rozolyn to Nachte, his friend frowns. "You're kidding."  
"I'm not."  
"Why?"  
"She needs somewhere to go."  
"It looks bad to Naori if I keep her."  
"Then lets go get him."  
As it turns out, war has forced Inan, once again, to bond boys and send them out. Naori is long gone.  
"You bastard!" Nachte is so angry he's practically spitting.  
"It was all I could do to keep his life."  
Nachte begins a collection of strays then, always praying the next one will be Naori.

There's pain like fire all over his limbs and he gasps for air but there isn't any and Nachte knows Jezreel is dying.  
He tries to stand, the chair behind him clatters to the floor and Nachte follows, gripping his chest through his shirt.  
The band on his arm, having never faded with the charm, feels like it's constricting.  
He thinks he's screaming from the agony. Thinks he screams Jezreel's name a time or two.  
Just when his vision starts to narrow from the pain, it becomes bearable. His body is still trembling with the aftershocks. His breathing is ragged.  
The trio he's been babysitting have gathered around him, asking him questions and prodding at him.  
When the tightness in his chest ceases, he feels overwhelmingly alone.  
Jez is dead.  
And he knows he should stop crying. It's bad for the trio's moral.  
But he cares about that very little at this point.

"I need you three to manage without me for a few days," He tells them as he pulls on his jacket. He has waited until he can think straight to take this trip.  
They nod. "We'll be fine," Says Kira.  
The trip to Jezreel's house is swift, only takes a day when he'd usually draw it out.  
He's relieved when it's still standing. White paint and waist-high picket fence.  
Jezreel loved the way this place looked. Had spent every ounce of quint he had to secure it to play House in.  
Triska was the mommy, Jez the daddy. And Renjin their prized little girl.  
Although Nachte always suspected Jez was grooming her for something else.  
Instincts were instincts and a non related female coming of age never did bode well.  
His stops by Jezreel's favorite tree to lie under. Finds Triska has decided he should lie under it permanently.  
He sits near the turned earth and breathes deep. Triska will see him any minute and come to greet him so crying is not a smart thing. "I wish I had stopped by a little sooner," He says. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."  
When the grief begins to overwhelm him, he stands. The dirt clings to his clothes and he lets it.  
When he slides open the front door, he takes off his shoes, brushes the dirt off his pants before entering. "Triska?"  
The silence that greets him sets him on edge. Their shoes are still by the doorway but things are knocked over - Signs of a struggle. There's no food in the cabinets. Jez's meds are gone, too.  
There's blood in the backroom and in Renjin's. The door to the backroom is broken. Triska's jewelry is gone but the clothes in every drawer are untouched.  
The portraits in the hallway have been left alone.  
Nachte is scared. It makes sense for them to leave. But it doesn't make sense to leave the necessities. He stops, washes his hands with Jezreel's favorite soap. Lies in Jezreel's bed as he tries to understand what's going on.  
They've vanished into thin air.  
Shuffling feet alert him and he slinks back into the shadows.  
A man is muttering to himself about a third person to shake down. Nachte knows the third person is him.  
When the door slides shut, blocking out the light, the man whirls around to meet Nachte, who's already three steps ahead.  
The man falls to the floor, gasping, when Nachte lays into him.  
"Shut up," Says Nachte. "Tell me where they are."  
"Who?"  
"The woman and girl you took from this household!"  
"Master Naija has them!"  
"Good," Says Nachte. "Now tell me where exactly Naija is."  
He's going to kill anyone that stands between him and Jez's family.  
And he's going to bring those two home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I at some point think (as I always do) that more details will be added to this chapter.... At a later date.


	37. Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chikotsu is nothing like his Father...  
> Shiseken is furious.  
> Sasayo is clever. He also knows when not to play games.

"What happened?" Kajmir asks Chiikets while they're waiting for the women to finish preparing Shen's body.  
With all the weeping, Kajmir knows they have some time.  
But Chiikets says nothing.  
"Listen," Says Kajmir. "It looks really bad. And if anyone saw Renjin the way she was-"  
"She's dead. Shen is dead. It's behind us."  
"You aren't dead yet, my friend. And it's wrong to sweep them under the rug like they meant nothing."  
Chiikets tenses then. Kajmir knows that everything Chiikets has done was for his brother. And maybe he shouldn't have worded it like that - but there's nothing for it.  
"Kajmir...." His hands splay out on his thighs, palms up. "If I try to face it right now, I won't make it to my Aunt's house."  
Kajmir lets it drop. But he never gets the chance to ask again. Chiikets is sure to distance himself, never to be alone with Kajmir.  
And then, when Kajmir resolves to corner him, to force it out with every trick he has -  
Chiikets is dead.

 

When Shiseken comes to him, kicks the peg on the other side of the tent so it collapses, the meeks underneath it panic and squeak in fear.  
Sasayo almost wishes he could join them when he sees the fire in her eyes.  
He really regrets not holding her down and mating with her last Fall.  
"What do you think you're doing? Ruining Chiikets' blood by allowing our son to choose a Tarshish?" Her voice is calm, but she looks like she might just try to kill him depending on his answer.  
"There's nothing I could have said to change his mind."  
Shiseken draws up to her full height, illusion of submission vanishing like mist. "You are the Leader of this Pack. Don't you _dare_ keep telling me you have no control over these cubs."  
He knows she's also talking about Niiniai. "What do you want me to do?"  
"Wipe out those damn Tokos, for one. It isn't that hard. Especially not to kill Rozolyn's branch."  
"You still blame her for Chiikets' death," Sasayo says slowly.  
"If she had been injured instead of him, he would have survived that battle with Kenjin."  
"We don't know that."  
Shiseken's expression says she clearly does.  
Sasayo throws up his hands, meeks forgotten for the moment. "Thinking ' _what if_ ' isn't going to change the fact that he hasn't been here for seventeen years. We can't go back, Shise."  
"But we can keep history from repeating itself."  
Sasayo takes her in. He wishes he could lead her to an optimistic conclusion. "We can't always control everyone, Shiseken. We just can't."  
She folds her arms.  
"And I'm not trying to deliberately ruin Chiikets' blood. She's barren anyway. At some point, she'll flee or his biological urges will kick in."  
She glances away from him.  
"Okay," He says. "So we kill the Tarshish, which alienates Chikotsu from - Oh... You know. **Everybody**." She rolls her eyes at his drama. "And then we kill Rozolyn. What about Renjin and Anayo? Aren't they nearly impossible to overcome?"  
"Not the Minnow. Killing the Human she's polluted her blood with will leave her open."  
Sasayo stares at her. "Oh, Yinkya. That's low."  
She glances at the meeks. "Sometimes, you have to get your hands dirty."  
"But not us. We can't do that shit."  
She raises an eyebrow at him. And he braces himself for the backlash of what he's about to say. "Chiikets tried playing by their rules. Renjin, our closest neighbor, despises every last one of us, now. Shen is dead. And you feel like our Father betrayed you." He thinks this is the reason for her hostility. She can't take it out on Chiikets. Didn't even know what he had done until Chante came forward with it years later, having heard the tale from some woman he was having sex with at the time.  
She had witnessed the entire thing and tried to blackmail Chiikets with it.  
Sasayo still doesn't know why she stood by - listened to Renjin's desperate cries and Shen's dying breaths - and allowed it to happen. Doesn't know why Chiikets hid it away and didn't face it, especially when Renjin came back, seething with rage and thirsty for his blood.  
When they went to Kajmir with it after Chiikets' death, he kept his mouth firmly closed.  
That, in itself, was horrifically damning.  
Worse still, Chiikets said Renjin had died protecting Shen. That Anayo had murdered her before he could step in.  
Shiseken was devastated when she found he had lied to her.  
Had neglected Chikotsu when the full extent of his father's actions came to light, torn between love for her son - All that is left of Chiikets - and the hatred for how blind she'd been. Not to mention her inability to cope with the very idea that Chiikets would stoop so low.  
She's still unable to deal with it, even sleeping with another man, she feels the need to both hurt and care for Chikotsu.  
Chiikets has done his widow a horrible disservice.  
Has tarnished how the entire Clan sees him. And yet, it is of no concern to their once-leader.  
He's in the ground, sleeping for eternity. And they're stuck with questions and devastation.  
Sasayo loves Chiikets - Even now - but he is also deeply angry. Wounded that the man he called Father wasn't who they believed him to be.  
Shiseken both tilts her head and turns it away, charcoal coloured hair hiding her face. "You're right." Her hands clench, white knuckled, before releasing. "But we should have no more to do with them."  
Sasayo wishes he could agree. "I think it's time you either get real with Asier, have another son with him maybe, or depart and do some serious soul searching."  
When her eyes, naturally just this side of narrow meet his, he knows she is processing the pros and cons of each option. "If I have another son, Chikotsu will be pushed aside."  
"He doesn't need you at his side every moment at this point. He needs to stretch and see how far he can go."  
Shiseken is quiet for a little longer.  
"If you leave, I want you to come back and stay from late Fall to early Spring."  
Her tone is carefully neutral. "And if I choose not to?"  
He isn't really all that sure how she feels about sex with him. Has probably never even considered it. But now is the time to be tough with her. "Then don't come back at all."  
She stares at him as though he's just struck her. "You can't-"  
"I am the Father. Don't tell me I have no control." Throwing her words back at her is cruel, unfair. "Your cubs will be in good hands." As an afterthought, "Take Asier and Kendai. Go start over somewhere."  
"And Chiikets' son? You can't honestly think that won't rip his heart out."  
"We'll tell him you need to see what's out there and that his duties are here."  
"You need me."  
He's thrown at the sudden change. "And why would you think that?"  
"You fully intend for me to bear your offspring, get attached to you so I won't leave again."  
He is reluctant when he says, "You're right. We do need you."  
"Then give me some incentive to stay."  
"Niiniai will be our only tie to their Clan." He breathes deep, isn't sure how she'll react to his next suggestion. "And we'll marry Chikotsu to a second woman of your choosing."  
"A second woman?"  
"We can't kill the first. The second wife will be able to bear him children. She'll carry his favour."  
Shiseken is reluctant, having known what it's like to share her man with another.  
"If I stay, am I still required to mate with you?"  
"No. It is only if you leave or choose not to get serious with Asier."

No one is surprised when Shiseken and Asier marry.  
Chikotsu despises it.  
Refuses to attend the ceremony until Iris gently talks him into it, tells him she'll wear the lingerie he likes so much.  
She lets him ravish her that night and he's sure to focus on her pleasure until she begs him to stop.

 

The sun on his skin is pleasurable as Iris curls against his side, under his arm.  
Her head and right arm lie on his chest.  
A shadow over him disturbs his doze. "Interbreeders are the worst," Says the owner of the shadow.  
"Get over it. It's pretty common," Says Chikotsu. He can feel Iris shifting against him.  
"I think we should put a stop to it." Iris is suddenly jerked out from under his arm and lets out a sharp scream. He's on his feet as a woman drags Iris by her hair just outside of the Neutral Trading Grounds. A group of Full Bloods are waiting there, rocks in hand.  
_No_ , Chiikets thinks, putting all the pieces together. **No!**  
She doesn't scream when the first rock is thrown, nor the second. He knows it has to hurt. Men grab him, hold him away from the people murdering his wife.  
And his Mother is off to the side, watching.  
"Stop them!" He screams at the top of his lungs. "Mother, _**please!**_ "  
She glances at him only once, her expression grim.  
When it's over, they pull back. He realizes that the woman who started this is Sho's Mother.  
When he takes Iris' body in his arms, knowing the last two years of finally winning her love are lost, he knows he can't keep playing Prince.  
He has people to repay. And when he's King, when he is Father, he'll repay both his mother who stood by, and Sho's Clan in full.  
Sasayo is going to back down or die tonight.

"What are we doing?" Asks Sech like they're about to play a game he loves.  
"Watch my back. If Kajiim attacks, don't kill her."  
"What if-"  
"Nothin' Sech. No accidents. No stupid shit. She lives or you're castrated."  
"That's harsh, Oh Brother of mine." Sech grins, teeth glinting. "Or should I say, _Father?_ "  
When he and Sech enter Sasayo's quarters, shoulders back. Sasayo instantly knows what this is about. "Boys?"  
"You're being demoted," Says Sech in a sing-song sort of way.  
Chikotsu looks at him with love and worry but Sech's eyes are empty of any sort of affection. They're hungry. Hopeful that he'll try to keep his place.  
He backs down peaceably.  
Kajiim is forced to stand naked before Chikotsu, eyes closed and hands fisted.  
It's custom that a takeover isn't complete until the new Male has sex with the old Male's Female.  
And while Chikotsu traces her contours with a feather light touch, he hates the idea of hurting Sasayo's relationship with Kajiim.  
"Mother told me you were going to arrange a second wife for me?"  
Sasayo sighs. "She wanted incentive to stay. Keeping your blood clean was one of them."  
"And Iris?"  
"I knew you loved her. I couldn't bring myself to interfere anymore than that."  
He's gentle when he brushes the hair out of his Father's wife's face. He's starting to feel his instincts kick in.  
Starting to want her.  
But he loves them like family.  
"I want my tattoo two days from now."  
"Yes, Father," Says Sasayo. And it's surreal that the man he has always looked up to, he now looks down upon.  
He now has the power to do whatever he wants to whomever he wants.  
When he walks down the hallway, Sech behind him, Kendai pokes her head out of the kitchen and smiles at him. "Good evening, Brother!"  
"That's Father to you," Says Sech as she returns to her duties.  
Glass shatters and his half-sister comes running to him. "Ko, what have you done?"  
Chikotsu takes in the wispy hair that has escaped it's braid and frames her face. Part of him wants to tangle his bare hands in it. And while, before his ascension, that would have been fine. She was family. But now, not only is he leader, he wants to touch her for all the wrong reasons. "He is still alive an' well, Kendai."  
When his mother comes out, he's quick to take her by the wrist and slice the Jiira there.  
The silence is so thick as the Jiira unravels, flutters to the floor, Chikotsu could probably cut it, too.  
His mother thins her lips. "You can do what you want to me. But don't you dare touch Kendai's father."  
"Then he leaves," Says Chikotsu. "And you are to be second to Kajiim."  
"What purpose would you have for that?" Asks Kendai.  
"Mother wanted Iris to be second to another woman. Now she'll know what that's like."  
"I already know," Says Shiseken. "Your father had sex with nearly every Female during the Fall Season."  
Chikotsu is fuming when he goes to exile his step-father. The man had mostly ignored him, had some times even been good to him. This was the reason Chikotsu was going to let him live. If he'd been unkind or unfair, he would be dead as revenge on Chikotsu's mother.  
Exiling him is simple. He doesn't want blood spilled.  
As Chikotsu leaves the cabin, he brushes past his mother, says. "If you think I was goin' to dirty my blood before. You are goin' to wish Iris was alive as much as I."  
The morning brings Iris' funeral. Almost everyone attends. Asier is gone and his mother refused to go.  
But he doesn't need her now.  
And he never will again.  
"Omel, Saimii. I want you to send word to the Toko family that our Prince wishes to marry their daughter."  
Kaiton turns red in the face. "That's practically incest!"  
"I didn't say I actually intended for _you_ to marry her."  
Sech grins behind him like a Luuma that's caught the yoksa bird.  
Shiseken is so angry when she finds out what he's doing, she orchestrates an uprising.  
It's quickly put down and she's sentenced to room arrest until she allows herself to be married to Sasayo.  
He feels pleasure wrapping those bands around her bicep and wrist, the sleeve between complementing her skin tone.  
Sasayo has a simple silver band around his bicep. He looks tired. Resigned.  
His tattoo, in the exact same place his father's was, that Sasayo's scar is, makes him seem more mature.  
He visits Iris' grave constantly. Holds her silks against him when he sleeps and tries to keep her sweet scent near him.  
He finds out later that those who killed her got sick from the same sickness and died horrific, painful deaths.  
And Renjin's Human mate has killed Migi, Sho's mother.  
"This is all about revenge, isn't it?" Sasayo asks him the day before Females are going to jump him and try to bear his offspring.  
"Iris was a good, strong woman. And now she's dead."  
"Are you dealing with the blame you feel towards yourself by putting it on everybody else?"  
Chikotsu shrugs, not really sure how to respond.

Renjin sends a reluctant response. She doesn't like the idea that her only daughter should marry into their Clan.  
And he offers Omel in consolation.  
Sech is understandably furious. "You can't do this."  
"There's an understandin' that anything that happens ta Omel, Emma receives two fold."  
This quiets him.

Renjin, after two months of silence, sends a response.  
She'll agree. But Emma will be sent to them at thirteen, not to be married until fifteen.  
Omel, six years younger than Chikotsu, will be sent and married to someone in Renjin's Clan at that time.  
"I don't want to go," Whispers Omel.  
Chikotsu shakes his head. "I can't give em Kendai."  
"Why not?"  
"Because that creates an inbreedin' issue."  
At Omel's strange look, he shrugs.  
Emma would be his. He isn't sure who they'll marry Omel to. But he knows Renjin will be careful.

Her daughter's life could hang in the balance.

Denii is melancholic after she receives the news, wants nothing to do with Chikotsu.  
And he's fine with that.

Asheer becomes one of his favorite people to bed. But he can't bear any sort of affection in the bed he once shared with Iris. It's too much like a betrayal. Too painful and easy to forget whom he's actually with.  
Between his plotting, working his hands to the bone, his new responsibilities, and Females jumping him, he's left exhausted by Winter.  
"Not so easy, hmm?" Asks Sasayo as he leans against the door frame.  
"How did my father ever get our Clan through to Spring?"  
"Help. And by being the tough man he was."  
Chikotsu perks slightly. "Really?"  
"Your father could be the meanest son of a bitch I've ever met. But he always pushed himself until he couldn't anymore. And then, when he could get out of bed, he did it again."  
"He sounds like he had an addiction to work."  
"We have it a lot easier than we did. He wanted to spend time with you - with the other cubs. But every time we turned around, something was going massively, horribly wrong."  
"Like?"  
"Food shortages. Other Males putting the beat down on him. Anayo."  
"He couldn't catch a break?"  
"Not even with Chante, Mokko, Kajmir, Liv, and I," Admits Sasayo. "We just couldn't keep the slack picked up."  
Chikotsu sits up from his place face down on the bed.  
"Our Clan was bigger back then, too. More people to house and feed and protect." Sasayo's eyes grow distant. "I never once saw him cry about it. He never complained or made any sort of stink about it. Always kept his shoulders up while most men bowed under the weight of their worlds."  
"I'm nothin' like my father."  
"You're as much like him as you need to be." At Chikotsu's strange expression, Sasayo says. "We needed a firm hand when he was our guide. But what we need right now is our boy to come back to us. No vengeance or cruelty or violence. We're past it."  
"But my mother-"  
"Had to be hard to bear your father. She's not any softer because she wants vengeance, too, she can't have it."  
"Why?"  
"Because the man she wants it on is dead. She was wrong - Horribly, awfully wrong - to let Iris die. But isn't your mother punished enough? She's married to a man she isn't even attracted to, the man she loves is exiled, you're marrying the daughter of the woman she hates - I'm old. Not blind. Don't look at me like that. And you're sending Omel into foreign territory. That girl has to be terrified."  
"You're tryin' to talk me out of this."  
"I'm trying to reason with you. Some of this, you're going to regret."  
"Like what?"  
"Your mother isn't going to live forever. Do you really want this hanging over the two of you until the end of your life?"  
"Don't you mean hers? The end of her life?"  
"No, Son," Says Sasayo. "Fathers always die young."  
"You didn't."  
"I was lucky."

Chikotsu stops punishing his mother. But their relationship is long over.  
Sex with the Females slows. But none bear his children. His mother bears what many don't believe is Sasayo's.  
And while Sasayo helps him get through the Spring, Chikotsu starts surrendering more and more to him.  
Until the day that Sasayo is Father once more. Chikotsu lets him have it. He isn't ready for it and the anniversary of Iris' death is coming up. Her birthday was during the Fall months.  
"I let you have this to teach you what will be required when you really are leader," Says Sasayo. "Next time, you will have to kill me."


	38. A Family Torn Asunder (And Desire Discovered)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjin's teenage years from when Jezreel ends to Takka's beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, Xerxes saving her is there but unmentioned in this chapter. I feel it makes it a touch redundant, seeing that it's mainly on how she gets to where she is.  
> At some point, she'll be meeting Sanchu. But we're not there just yet.  
> This chapter DOES have sexual content. And some slightly different biology... And something that's vaguely like knotting...  
> So.... Enjoy.. I guess. And by all means, tell me how you feel about the weird anatomy.

"Renjin, I noticed the dishes have been washed."  
When she looks up from her schooling, smiles at him, he knows why she did.  
It had been a real pain to get her to do anything worth her while over the summer. A wild child she is.  
But Jezreel has almost tamed her.  
"Do you want to go out to the pond a little later?"  
"Will you go with me?"  
He thinks of all the things he has to do today. The door to the back room needs fixing, Triska wants him to beat the dust out of the rugs and replace the shutters. His list goes on and by the end of it, he knows he won't have the time to spend with the girl. "Sure."  
He can deal with it later.

"Sit still," Says Triska. She hates the idea of Jezreel slacking but she knows she can't really stop him. She twists Renjin's waist length locks back into a braid. She's had practice from the time Jezreel continued with Keava's standards: head shaved on the sides and the rest pulled back and plaited.  
Sitting still for Renjin is almost impossible unless training is involved. Teaching her meditation was the best thing he ever did.  
He lets her carry the nets down to the pond. And while he doesn't think they'll catch any frogs, he figures it's worth a try.  
"Why don't we catch the fish?"  
"Because they're too small."  
"Uwa," She says. Looking out at their big bright world with childlike wonder. Like it's the first time she's been outside.  
"Have you thought about marriage, Renjin?"  
Her eyes are curious, almost hopeful and Shoshunii if she isn't the sweetest thing he's ever taken under his wing. "You aren't married to Triska."  
"Well, I should be. It's wrong for me not to marry her."  
"Why aren't you married then?"  
"Because some people have commitment issues." Before she can ask him to specify, he says. "It's time for you to think about getting married."  
He has a few suitors picked out that he thinks she might at least be okay with. If not, it'll show him which direction she's naturally inclined towards.  
"You don't want me with you anymore...."  
"You're fifteen. A young woman by our standards. And I think it'll make you happy."  
"I am happy."  
" _Happier_."  
Renjin is quiet for a long time as they tromp through the grass as tall as Renjin's waist. She's definitely a woman. And he has to constantly keep his eyes moving. Triska is prettier.  
But Renjin is on the cusp of her prime.  
Her profile is scrunched in what he guesses is agitation or thought. His arm is slow to slide around her shoulders but her nubile form presses against his willingly. Wisps of hair have escaped from the braid. They stick to her skin that's flushed from being under the sun.  
It's quite cool until one has been out long enough.  
When she looks up, and up, and up at him, he wants to pull her closer. "How do I know who I should marry?"  
"A weak, worthless man will tell you only of himself. A good man will want to know you, he'll want you to know him."  
Renjin frowns.  
"And always be sure to look at the way a man treats his family. Everything he does to his mother and sisters, he'll shamelessly do to you."  
They walk a little further. "But the best men will do what's good, even in the face of death."

When they get home, Renjin is sunburnt and Triska covers her in oils.  
"I hate this stuff."  
"Me, too," Says Jezreel.  
"You don't burn."  
"I know. It makes you smell funny."  
"Jezreel," Says Triska to the Half Breed's tease. Renjin sticks out her tongue.

 

When Jezreel wakes to a scraping sound by the door, he knows he's not by himself.  
There's shuffling and something like whispering.  
When he lights the lantern by his pallet, he comes face to face with a grinning creature.  
He thinks, for a moment, about calling for Triska. A look around quells that.  
The only chance his girls have is if he can lock the wooden door to the back room.  
He doesn't break eye contact with the creature when he slowly stands, bares his teeth, and growls.  
It watches him as he backs away. One of them hisses and tries to trip him and he staggers, desperate to stay standing.  
If he stays standing, he has a chance.  
There's one inside the cupboard he opens, leering at him. He snarls and his hand darts for the knife. As soon as his fingers wrap around the handle of the blade, the creature grabs his wrist in its mouthful of teeth. He swears, switches the knife to his left hand and tears into the creature with the blade.  
When it screams and finally lets go, he runs as fast as he can to the door. They're sinking their teeth into his legs as he fumbles with the lock. The key goes flying when one of them finally shoves him down. The little bastards are gleaming with his blood.  
A swipe of his knife kills the one by his head but another is quick to fill its place. He throws a few of them off but they always come back.  
He actually isn't afraid to die, he notices.

He just really has things worth living for.

When Renjin wakes to something banging against the backroom door, she wonders why it's closed. Triska is standing there, scrambling to unlock it, but she isn't where the banging sound is coming from.  
"Jez! Jezreel open the door!"  
Something growls on the other side and Renjin tries not to panic.  
Jezreel can't die, right?  
Finally, she gets the door unlocked.  
The scene before them will give Renjin nightmares for the rest of her life.  
"Jezreel!" Her voice cracks as she screams. And the hairless creatures look up at the same time.  
"Fuck," Says Triska, grabbing Renjin's arm and trying to pull her back, out of the way of the door. "We need to get the hell out."  
"I'm not leaving."  
They start to flood towards them like water in a burst dam. "He's dead. We have to go."  
"I said _I'm not leaving!_ " Triska pulls away as flame shoots out of Renjin's mouth and fingertips when she gestures. The squat creatures hiss and pull back.  
"Don't like that, do you!" She screams at them, scorching the floor behind them as they run in terror of her.  
Triska is frozen in place, watching Renjin chase them out.  
When she's done, she kneels beside Jezreel and buries her face in her hands.  
Triska kneels, too, fingertips sweeping along his face.  
His eyes flutter open. Take a moment to focus. His left hand lifts to Triska, running his knuckles along her wrist. "Are you okay?" It sounds raspy and she can tell his lungs aren't in good shape.

"We're fine," Says Triska. She sounds breathless.

"Renjin." When she pulls her hands away, she tries to focus only on his eyes. His hand is gentle when it cups her cheek. She can feel that he's missing fingers but his right hand is mangled even worse. "I need you to do everything you can to look out for yourself and Triska." She nods, feels sick when she realizes his blood is on the right side of her face now. It's all over Triska's left arm. "Find a good man who will take care of you. And don't trust a man who has a way with words. He'll pull one over on you." She can see him fighting to keep the light in his eyes. "I love you, Triska. Renjin."  
Renjin is gasping when she takes his hand in both of hers and says, "I love you, too."  
Triska clenches her teeth, runs her fingers through his hair until his eyes close and his muscles slack.

"Come on, Renjin. It's only another ten feet." Jezreel is as heavy as she expected him to be. There's no one to help them lay his body in the ground, either. They've wrapped him in a sheet and put his nice clothes on him. But the weight of the pain she feels seems to double his.  
"Triska," Says Renjin. "What are we going to do now?"  
"Finish this. Then we'll talk about it."

Renjin still feels lost when she and Triska decide to move to a Human settlement.  
They give it a week, time to pack up and say goodbye to Jezreel.  
Two days before they leave, Renjin hears Triska talking to men.  
She's caught Triska with a few different men over the years, but she feels the burn of anger about it now.  
She storms into the sitting room. "You can't keep doing this."  
"Is this her?" Asks one of the men.  
"That it is."  
Renjin is baffled. "What?" Maybe Jezreel arranged for a suitor to come by. "Triska, I know Jezreel wanted me to get married, but is there anyway to hold off on it?"  
Triska's expression turns slightly condescending. "Oh sweety, you aren't getting married. And you're **never** going to be."  
"Wait. Then why are you talking about me with them?"  
She smiles and Renjin takes a step back, into the iron grip of a terrifying man.  
"You're right," Says a man. "She's worth three hundred quint."  
"T-Triska?"  
"Try to be a good girl. I told them you learn fast."  
"Okay, ha ha," Says Renjin. "The joke's over now, isn't it?" Her eyes meet Triska's emotionless ones. " _Isn't it?_ "  
The man backs out of the room and Renjin struggles, takes hold of the door frame but one good pull from the man and Renjin's nails break, the bones in the wrist he has taken hold of scream.  
"Triska! Triska, please!"  
"Now," She says as Renjin's voice begins to grow distant. Glass shatters and the man swears. She almost pities the brat. They're nearly out the front door. Triska holds her hand out to the leader, watching the man drag Renjin from the yard via the window. Cold metal claps over her wrist instead of the smooth, fuzzy bag of quint.  
When her eyes widen, dart towards the manacle, he says. "You didn't really think we were just going to let you walk away, did you?"

There are other girls in the wagon. A man sits inside and plays with a knife, keeping them terrified and in their seats.  
Renjin is too miserable to make a break for it anyway.  
He puts the knife against her throat. "No funny business, got it?"  
"It's sad that you feel the need to push around girls that have the fighting potential of meeks." It slips out before Renjin can pull it back. "Are you trying to compensate, or something?"  
The man looks like he might hit her but she stares at him instead.  
_There's no reason to live anyway_ , She tells herself. The good of this world was buried with Jezreel. All of his dreams and plans and goals for himself. For Triska.

For her.

She grips her trousers and tries not to cry in front of the worthless trash.  
"That's more like it," He says.  
When they arrive, Renjin feels numb.  
If she can't feel, then they can't hurt her.  
The brothel is gaudy and huge. It doubles as a bathhouse.  
They spend all day prettying the girls up.  
Renjin is sitting in a tub, torn between spending some time pretending she isn't in bad circumstances or just drowning herself.  
A man steps in, sits in a stool by the tub. "Are you a virgin?"  
Renjin is reluctant to open her eyes. "No."  
"Damn shame."  
"Yup."  
"Oh well. We can make do."  
Renjin shrugs. She doesn't care.  
When they're done making Renjin 'pretty,' she feels uglier than when they began. Did she really need that much paint? Her hair is cut and the calluses are removed from her feet.  
"Well, you aren't perfect," Says a man. "Only a little prettier than a luuma. But the make up ensures the men can't tell."  
Renjin glances at the mirror and hates how she looks. Her hair has too many ornaments. Her feet are too soft to successfully run away, and they've pierced the tragus of her ears.  
The man grabs her by the arm and takes her down a hallway, there's a group of men waiting in the room for them.  
She's settled before the ravenous beasts and pours them tea like a docile Female.  
One of them grabs her arm and she tears it out of his grip.  
Another grabs her jaw and turns it towards him, she struggles against a pair that push her to her knees, raise her skirts.  
She's pushed and pulled this way and that. "Anaya!" She doesn't know why she's bothering. "Anaya!!" But she screams her sister's name at the top of her lungs. Anaya never would have saved her - even if she were alive.  
Something changes. Her hands move without being told to. Her fingers find their home in a man's eye and he releases her hair. She takes the glass tea pot and smashes it over another man's head.  
Her vision blacks.  
When she's aware of herself, she's calmly wiping the blood from her hands.  
Something is standing behind her.  
"I don't like you. I never even loved you. But I refuse to let anyone else use you."  
Renjin doesn't dare face it. Even when it stalks up behind her. "Walk with me."  
She follows the ghostly figure away from the burning building, through the woods.  
"There's a boy you're going to take under your wing - Not yet. You'll know him when you see him." The drifting fog adds to her malevolence.  
"There's a reason for all of this."  
"I want you to kill our brother. Tear our mother apart. Slowly."  
At Renjin's horrified look, she says. "Oh, you're too weak. But one day. One day, they're going to pay."  
"I don't-"  
"Don't think about it now." She stops in a clearing, listens intently. "You'll know when it's time."  
"Is there something I can do to lay your soul to rest?"  
"No. And don't you dare try or every time you sleep, you'll relive Jezreel's last moments."  
At Renjin's look, Anaya smiles. "That a girl. Stand here."  
Renjin is reluctant when she stands beside her sister. "And if you move an inch, you'll regret it."  
Her sister backs away, out of her vision.  
Hands like ice wrap around her slim shoulders, lips brush against the shell of Renjin's ear. "I'll see you later."  
There's a nip of teeth against the shell of her ear and then she's alone in the fog, no idea where she is.  
She doesn't know how long she's there until the foliage starts shaking.  
She fights hard to stay put.

 

There's smoke billowing into the sky and he's scared. Jezreel's family has slipped through his fingers.  
A girlish scream to his right startles him. He's quick to follow. The girl might know where Renjin is.  
Another scream draws him deeper into the forest.  
A shadow passes between the trees. "Hey. Why don't you come out?" He follows at a distance.  
He catches a glimpse of brown with red tint. "Renjin? Whoever you are, please come out."  
The person finally stops behind a tree, squats and curls up on herself, breath hitching as though crying but not sniffling.  
He crouches, too. "It's okay," He says.  
He approaches slowly. The moment his fingertips brush the tips of her hair, he knows he's made a mistake.  
It turns to him, eyes nothing but small holes, no nose and a mouth that folds open like origami, and screams in a way that curdles his blood before knocking him to the ground and screaming in his face.  
Then it gets off of him and darts off into the forest, leaving him stunned and gasping. "H-holy gods above!"  
"Nachte?"  
He jumps to his feet again. "Okay. I'm coming backwards. If you're another demon, I don't want to see you coming. Just go on and end it."  
"O....Kay."  
He backs up slowly, squeezes his eyes shut and waits. When nothing happens, he turns and finds a perplexed Renjin.  
"If I were a demon, I'd be waiting for you to turn around."  
"Thank the gods you're not."  
"Superstitious?"  
"I wasn't until just now," Says Nachte.  
Renjin shrugs. "I didn't see anything."  
"Lucky."  
They begin their trek to the nearest shelter, but the inn only has one room.  
They both lie in the bed. Nachte's breathing is deep and even, eyes closed.  
But Renjin's mind is stirring, unwilling to quiet. She takes in his dark hair and angular features. He's got a perfect bow to his lips even if his eyelashes aren't that long.  
She feels curiosity as to what his hands look like.  
"Go for it," Anaya whispers from somewhere behind her. "You could probably even pretend he's that Half Blood you used to wish would just bend you over."  
Renjin makes a gagging noise, glares over her shoulder at her sister.  
"Don't think I didn't notice." Is all she says.  
"Are you okay?" Asks Nachte. His eyes are cracked open and he's half asleep, but Renjin feels like he can see through her already.  
She takes a deep breath.  
"That's right," Whispers Anaya. "Let him teach you how good it can really be."  
Renjin wishes she could tell Anaya to get the fuck out without looking like she's lost her rocks.  
Her fingers brush against his jawline. Jezreel once told her Nachte has a diamond facial structure. Pointless information but Renjin tries to hold onto every memory.  
Her mouth presses a chaste kiss over his parted lips and his eyebrows inch together. "What's all this about?"  
Renjin doesn't know, herself.  
He watches as she rises, and removes piece after piece of clothing. He's silent when she faces him, eyes closed and hands fisted.  
"Don't feel like you have to pay me back. You got yourself out of there."  
"I'm not paying you back."  
His eyebrows rise. "Oh?" Renjin is trying but she can't meet his eyes. "Come here then."  
She's expecting him to just fuck her, to prove to her that sex is only good for the man. And only procreation for women.  
He strips down into only his shorts when she finally gets into bed next to him.  
He notices she's looking at his hands and smiles. "Here." He takes her hands in his and lets her play with his fingers. "They're not too different, ah? Yours are smaller, slimmer. That's all."  
He lets her contemplate them a little more before touching his lips to her temple, pressing her hands lightly against his chest. His mouth draws down to her cheek before tapping against the tip of her nose.  
"Can I kiss you?"  
Renjin has to laugh at that. "Isn't it too late to ask that?"  
"It's never too late to ask for something you want." She shivers because his chest vibrates against her hands when he speaks.  
"Yes."  
His lips are soft and his hand ghosts against her jaw, wanting to settle there but not entirely sure it should.  
He draws away, and she softly takes his bottom lip between her teeth. When she lets go, she looks unsure. Afraid what she did is over the line. He guides her arms around his neck and kisses her more fully. Tongue slipping in, he lets out a soft moan and she moans in response, pulls him closer.  
His mouth drags over her jaw before leaving wet kisses over her neck and throat.  
She grips his shoulders, nips at the tip of his ear as his mouth and hands find her breasts.  
His hands slide up and down her back, over her belly.  
Then his hands are encouraging her to lie back, tongue laving ticklish designs over her midsection.  
When he hooks her legs over his shoulders, she stops him. "W-wait!"  
He tilts his head. "What's wrong?"  
"It... It's messed up."  
"Is it tender?" She shakes her head. "Then let's see how bad it really is."  
He kisses it and Renjin is both embarrassed and ashamed of her body. "I can't do this."  
"Just try it, and if you really don't like it, I'll stop."  
He's watching intently as he rubs his tongue over what's left of her clit. She hisses and her calves constrict around him. "Does it hurt?"  
"Too much."  
"Right." He goes back to kissing her slick quajen, pressing his tongue inside.  
She grips his knees. "Unm."  
He kneads her breast with his free hand.  
He's sure to give her clit a careful tap with the tip of his tongue. Her breath hitches.  
He eases her legs off of his shoulders. "Have you ever touched yourself?"  
Her head shakes. He shrugs. "Makes sense, I guess." His index finger makes its home in her sweet heat. When She tenses, he rubs his free hand over her belly. "Hold on." He works a second finger in. She sits up, wraps around him when his fingers quirk once, twice, three times.  
She's riding his hand by the time a third finger is filling her. He can see her trying to give herself over to his skilled hands.  
He kisses her when he slides his fingers into the soft openings of skin but she rips her mouth away and screams, arching so hard she topples backwards and off his lap. He has to follow so he doesn't hurt her.  
She's still trembling when she comes down from her high, muscles still rippling around his fingers.  
"Oh. Oh gods what did you do?"  
"Never had your slots touched before?"  
"Slots?" Her hair is sticking to her face their breath mingles before he's kissing her ravenously.  
"Slots," He repeats when he pulls away, "are for Males to slip into so Females receive as much pleasure as we do. It's also to keep Females near us after copulation."  
At Renjin's perplexed expression, his hand guides hers down to his cock. She's guided into smooth strokes.  
When something the color of bone starts peaking out from underneath the head, she makes a nervous noise.  
"They are called hooks and won't hurt you as long as I'm careful," He says. "You can touch them." Her fingers toy with them for a moment. They're flexible, not all that firm, and curve backwards. "Does it hurt?"  
"No." Then, he's pushing her hands away and easing himself inside.  
She gasps, rakes her nails down his back as he fills her. He kisses up and down her neck, withdrawing before easing in again.  
He hooks her legs around his waist before rocking swiftly into her. She moans and whimpers and he grunts and focuses on working her up. The headboard clatters against the wall but he can't bring himself to care.  
Her hands roam every inch of him, begging him to keep going. To keep rubbing her dripping quim in all the right places.  
At the edge he slides his hooks into her slots and she clings, screams his name and writhes like a wild cat.  
Finally, his hooks recede and he drops her to the soft mattress. Even breathless, she seeks his mouth.

He ends up staying and bedding her for a week.  
He knows he never should have done it in the first place, Jezreel would skin him if he were still alive, and that he should be ashamed of himself.  
But every time he starts to be disgusted with himself, she looks up at him and bites her lip and he pins her down all over again.  
Just something about Fall Season.  
His adoptees at the house send him correspondence that he's needed but he knows he can't keep Renjin. She and her sister might be blood.  
But they aren't family.  
He looks up from his meal. "Is there somewhere you wish to be escorted?"  
Renjin shakes her head. "I will probably head further East."  
"If you tell me you need me, I will come," He says.  
As they part ways, he gently takes her by the arm. "What happened to Triska?"  
Renjin could tell him the truth. But would he believe her?  
"She's dead. They killed her when they came to take me."  
Nachte's shoulders droop slightly before he rolls them back. "Thank you."  
Renjin shakes her head. "I'm sorry."  
She doesn't meet Nachte again.

When they choose her, she's utterly confused.  
"Why?"  
"Because you have the makings," Says Yomshee, the lead Skin Walker. "We also promised him we'd care for you.... And Triska." Her Mate nods in agreement.  
"But knowing what we know, she will not be welcomed should she return."  
They teach Renjin their politics, encourage the vicious side they know is there.  
And at seventeen, she leads them into battle with the Pride long enough to steal Chiikets' knives. She would have killed him if it weren't for the injury he carries. Even though he hides it, she knows it's there.  
And picking him off would be far from satisfying.  
Shattering the buckle of the belt his knives in their sheath hang from and sliding between his legs to retrieve it is simple enough. And then it's run or die.  
But Renjin can do that, dances out of Shiseken's grasp, slits Laniika's throat by instinct alone when the woman grabs her hair.  
Denii knows better than to hassle her, but Asheer is hot on her heels, grinning and murderous.  
Renjin drops to the dirt when the woman goes to tackle her.  
She turns and almost runs smack into Kajiim.  
Her eyes are haunted when they meet Renjin's. "You."  
She pushes Kajiim. "Don't look at me like that."  
"He said you were dead."  
This gives Renjin pause. "And none of you came back to lay my body in a decent resting place?"  
Kajiim's mouth moves but nothing comes out.  
"You said-"  
"I'm sorry I was wrong," Says Kajiim. "I never thought.... Kajmir always said he couldn't retrieve your body because animals took it."  
"You didn't ask him why he decided not to bring it back with Shen?"  
Kajiim holds out her hands. "Then what really happened?"  
She seems genuinely intent on discovering what went on.  
"Kajiim! Get back!"  
Both girls get out of the way of the arrows coming in their direction.  
Renjin slips into the tree line.  
"Did she hurt you?" Asks Sasayo.  
Kajiim shakes off his hands. "Get off me."

She leans against the table. "You can't do this by yourself."  
Renjin snorts. "I can, too."  
"But not easily."  
At Renjin's glare, the woman says. "You can call me Takka. And you're going to realize you need me one way or another."  
"And just what can you do that Yomshee can't?"  
"Come into power." Takka flips short, straight hair out of her eyes. "And keep _you_ there."  
Roxoi, overthrows Yomshee by the end of the month, would have killed Renjin had Takka not been around.  
"I told you so," Says Takka.  
Anaya hates Takka, calls her a snake waiting for prey.  
"Takes one to know one," Says Renjin.  
Anaya laughs and agrees.


	39. The Wheat From The Chaff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieve has a busy year. It has it's good moments. But that dark horizon is getting closer all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Gawd! Once I started this, I could not stop. It's utterly huge.  
> You're welcome.  
> I think, next Maque will be fully introduced.  
> Forewarning, Kieve does a lot of internal monologue in this chapter.  
> There's also some bondage-y hetero stuff. I think that's it for now.

When Kieve first enters the gates, he's surprised at the mix of Tarshish and Fall Backs.  
Inan stands, watching him. "You didn't meek out."  
"No, Sir."  
He gestures to the group, standing in rows of ten. Kieve thinks there's fifty of them. "Good."  
Kieve joins at the front. The orange haired Tarshish beside him scowls.  
"Now," Says Inan before the Tarshish can open his mouth. "I know some of you have always been free. Some of you, not. Some of you are from the streets and some of you are from the highest in society - The elites."  
Kieve catches a glimpse of Maque, three people to his left.  
"I'm going to tell you, right here, right now, that none of that matters here. No one gets preferential treatment." He smiles at each of them. "Because from here on out, you are slaves to me."  
There are multiple outcries, mainly from the Tarshish.  
"Now now," Says Inan. "Anyone who wants to stay free may leave now." Many of them turn to go - Even Kieve himself. "But if you leave those gates, you will be banned for life. There will be no turning back."  
Some grumble, asking why the hell they'd want to come back here.  
Kieve is quick to return to his line. The orange haired Tarshish hasn't even left.  
Maque saunters back as well.  
This is a test. And Kieve intends to pass it.  
When the last person has left the gates, Inan turns back to them. There's still thirty students watching him quietly.  
"Only a few of you are going to make it to the very top."  
Kieve knew that from the beginning.  
"It will be my pleasure to separate the wheat from the chaff."  
Somebody laughs. "You don't actually own us now, do you?"  
Inan's smile turns vaguely sadistic. "Should have walked through those gates while you had a chance."

 

They're sent to their own quarters, five people per housing unit.  
Kieve is in with the orange haired Tarshish, two Full Bloods, and their Adviser - Jekk.  
"Why didn't you think about leaving?" Asks one of the Full Bloods.  
The orange haired Tarshish, Enko, shrugs. "It isn't like I've anywhere to go."  
They stare at him strangely and even Kieve is curious.  
But Enko doesn't say anything else.

 

"Alright," Says Inan. They're watching the sun come up over the horizon, Kieve is unable to shake the dregs of sleep. "First things first." He smiles at them. "Don't throw up."  
_That doesn't make any sense_ , Thinks Kieve. They hadn't eaten since evening meal.  
"What the hell are you-" And then they're near the clouds at some dizzying height.  
A few students drop to their knees, dry heave.  
Kieve feels lightheaded. "Where are we?"  
"Above the island."  
The students that have vomited disappear like vapor. Kieve wonders what happened to them.  
"They're in the infirmary."  
"Are you kicking them out?" Asks Enko.  
"No. They passed the preliminary." There's a collective sigh and dropping of shoulders.  
Kieve thinks Inan is really a big softy.  
"They won't have any more training from me. Ever."  
"So they'll get your Assistants?"  
"No. Not even that."  
These people will never learn to defend themselves. Not well, anyway.  
They'll be minions to be chewed by the machine that is this island.  
"Do you see that speck over there?" Asks Inan. Everyone pauses in their musings to look. "That is mainland."  
"If we're that close, why aren't they here?" Asks a dark-skinned Full Blood.  
"Because we aren't," Says Enko. "This aerial view is deceptive."  
"Observant," Says Inan. "But let's see how far we can take you." His arms spread to their full span and Kieve drops to his knees, doing all he can not to hurl as their surroundings change.  
He feels peeved when he notices how stoic Maque is.  
A glance up makes him aware of glittering stars and a blue ball with brown and white over some parts. A distant ball of fire warms his skin.  
The students are whispering in hushed voices.  
"What is this?" Asks a Female Full Blood with fine, blonde hair.  
"This is what the Humans call our Solar System, kiddies."  
Kieve really can't fathom that this could be out there.  
Inan drops his arms, lets his hand go from left to right. At his will, the planets spin, the stars move their course.  
"Where are we?" Asks Maque.  
Kieve is surprised she doesn't know.  
Inan, points to the blue planet, crooks his finger and drags it towards himself. The planet draws closer, becomes larger and Kieve's breath catches in his throat.  
Inan stops the planet from spinning with a mere touch, points to a section of what Kieve thinks is ocean. "Here is where we are."  
"We aren't really outside the planet, are we?" Asks Enko.  
Inan glances at him. "Patience."  
"How do you know all of this?" Asks one of the Full Bloods Kieve is rooming with. "How do we know the earth isn't flat?"  
Inan's eyes roll.  
"There is so much more beyond this puny island."  
"That is the point of this exercise?" Asks Maque. "To make us want to explore it?"  
"Yes," Says Inan.  
"You never answered my question," Said the Full Blood.  
"I don't have to," Says Inan. "It's a stupid question."  
"There are no stupid questions," Says Kieve.  
"Only stupid people."  
Everyone shuts up after that.  
They are given some time to look at their universe, the planets spinning, stars on route.  
And then it melts away, gradually becoming walls. But there's still that feeling of falling, tumbling toward the ground a thousand miles a minute. This time, Maque drops to her knees and wretches like the rest of them.  
The only one still standing is Inan.  
"Does this disqualify us?" Enko asks between gasps.  
"No," Says Inan. "The last girl pissed herself."  
And while Kieve wants to be mad on behalf of the girl, he's focusing on not falling face first into his stomach acid.

 

They spend the rest of the day in bed, lightheaded and sick until lunch is served and the bells start ringing.  
Enko swears when he stands, holding things for balance.  
Kieve stands, too. Not sure he can handle lunch but knowing he should try.  
The Full Bloods groan but don't move to get up.  
Jekk is supposed to be babysitting them, but he's probably having lunch with Naori and Bany.  
"We'll bring you something back," Says Enko.  
They give him funny looks but he ignores it.  
"I guess you weren't a Yona, then," Asks Kieve.  
"I spent time in a brothel til I discovered my abilities. I hunted them ruthlessly after that."  
Kieve is surprised there are Tarshish that still take the fight to the Full Bloods. "What made you stop?"  
"I realized I was doing to them what they did to me. And making life harder on our people."  
Kieve doesn't often get included by Tarshish. It feels kinda nice.  
"You know I'm a Half Breed, right?"  
"Are you offended that I'm calling you one of us?"  
Kieve shakes his head, regrets it immediately. "I just didn't want you thinking I'm hiding it."

 

Standing in line at the mess, he and Enko talk about what they should take to their roommates until Kieve notices a pink haired Tarshish watching him.  
Staring, actually.  
When he lopes over to her, he feels like Sorajin when he asks, "What?" When she grows pale, still says nothing, he asks, "Never seen a Half Breed before?"  
"You don't recognize me." It isn't a question.  
Piqued, Kieve shrugs. "Should I?"  
"No," She says after a long moment. "I thought you were some one else."  
"I'm Kieve."  
"Ara."  
She's pretty. A perfect, toned specimen of their kind.  
He's pleased to know her not-tits aren't fake.  
"Up here, big guy."  
He instantly feels sheepish for letting his eyes wander. Her expression tells him she's a little surprised he's actually staring at her low cut shirt.  
"Not used to it, huh?" It slips out and he instantly feels like an imbecile.  
"I can blow you to nothing with my little finger. Don't talk shit to me."  
In this moment, he thinks he's met her before. But he can't, for the life of him, figure out where. Her voice is familiar, on the tip of his tongue-  
"Kieve, come on," Says Enko. Figuring out who she is will have to wait.

 

Ara is Inan's example. She demonstrates. And, if he deems them worthy, he teaches them the mechanics.  
"Alright," Says Inan. Ara stands on one side of him, Naori, one of his other Assistants, stands on the other. "Let's play a little. Naori."  
The crystal imbedded between his collarbones starts glowing. The magick is artificial. He isn't able to do any of this by himself, Kieve notices.  
Trees sprout up into a thick forest. It's an illusion, but it's a damn good illusion.  
Something hisses behind him and he turns to find a Luuma melting from the tree, fangs extending.  
A swipe of his hand sends enough power to cut the Luuma in two.  
A yoksa is quick to snatch it up and take it to its nest.  
Enko streaks past him, hounded by a pack of eschneider.  
"What did you do?" Asks Kieve. He can't avoid them now, either.  
"I sneezed!" Then he turns, Kieve thinks the Tarshish is going to trip him. Instead he draws a line in a patch of dirt with his shoe and yells, "You shall not pass!"  
Kieve is pretty sure that's a Human reference. Nonetheless, he's amazed when the eschneider collide with the invisible line between them and Enko.  
Their hairless bodies pace back and forth along the barrier, growl to each other.  
"You have an attack, right?"  
Kieve nods.  
"Good. Take pot shots, then."

 

Living for six hours in a forest of illusions is simple enough.  
When it's over, they're lined up and Inan pulls a scroll from his sleeve. "Yatai. Ahjin. Maque...."  
There were twenty five before this. Five are called forward and Inan is silent for a long time. "I don't like lone wolves. We work as a group around here. You're being relocated."  
Kieve smirks at Maque as she saunters past. She punches him in the arm and his smirk drops. "Ow, you bitch," He whispers.  
She smiles at him, flipping long, blonde hair over her shoulder.

 

Enko hisses when Inan's staff taps his calf. "Widen your stance."  
"It's a good stance."  
"But not perfect. Don't argue with me."  
Enko whistles a single note before sliding his legs a little further apart. He's noticed many Tarshish whistle. For many different reasons.  
"Better." The end of his staff presses against his cheek. "But don't look at me. Look at your target."  
"Yinka, ease off me, old man. I don't like to be caned."  
To Kieve, the only thing old about Inan are his stern, brown-green eyes. He looks early thirties to Kieve.  
"You will not speak of any god unless you are praying," Says Inan.  
"Oh," Says Enko."I'm praying alright."  
"Good. Maybe they'll bless you with more skill and less mouth."  
Kieve smiles to himself. Enko really does need some reeling in, sometimes.  
"Kieve. Don't let me see that stance slack. You know I hate when you lose your center."

 

Walking back to their room from morning meal, there's a crowd of people whispering and asking questions.  
"What's going on?" Asks Enko to a girl with thick, curly hair.  
"There's been a murder."  
Kieve's stomach twists. "Of who?"  
"Are you little fuckers really going to just stand and gawk at your dead?" Yells Inan. He shoves ruthlessly between Kieve and Enko, then the rest of the crowd. "Who saw him first."  
A Full Blood with glasses steps forward. "I did, Sir."  
"And what were you doing?"  
"I went out for a stroll. The room was starting to feel cramped."  
Inan stares at him intently and eventually, the Fall Back begins to fidget. "You're lying." Whispers erupt around the group. "Shut up!" He barks at them and they shrink back, away from him. Then he turns back to the Full Blood. "What were you doing?"  
"I told you, Sir-"  
"Don't lie to me!"  
The man clacks his teeth shut, looks guilty for a long moment. "I was going to hook up with a woman, Sir."  
"Hook up? What woman?"  
"Sir-"  
"Out with it. Explain this ' _hooking up_ ' you were doing. And give me this woman's name."  
The man blushes. "Um... Ah..."  
" _Hooking up_ is sex, Sir," Says a Tarshish. "And that woman is me."  
Kieve is just this side of shocked. Many of them are.  
He hears both Tarshish and Full Bloods making derogatory comments. A glance at Enko reveals his mild distaste.  
Inan looks over the man and Kieve catches a glimpse of him. He looks like one of the students that puked on the first out thinning.  
He's a Full Blood.  
Inan stands slowly. "Our assassin is Tarshish." Everyone glances at everyone else with accusing or measuring glances.  
"Anyone who was out last night better come forward before your cabin mates meek you out."  
"How could you possibly know the Race of the attacker?" Asks Kieve. Full Bloods turn suspicious eyes on him.  
"Tarshish kills are significantly different than Full Blood kills," Says Inan.  
They take him away with dignity.  
"Where is he going?" Asks a girl through her tears. She must have known him.  
"Back to his home in the North. His family will want him to be buried in the family tomb, I'm sure."

 

The Full Bloods are barely civil towards most Tarshish. Aren't sure if they should treat Kieve the same way or not. It's tolerable, he supposes.  
"That's enough," Says Inan when the tension is so much that Enko starts carrying his knives in his sleeves and doesn't tell anyone but Kieve.  
When asked, he had said, _Because you're one of us._  
Kieve is both pleased and terrified that Tarshish willingly claim him.  
And because Enko has accepted him, others do too. They ask him about his past that he shamefully glosses over, tries to avoid giving an answer to at all. They seek him out and stand up for him when Full Bloods start getting pushy.  
He was grafted into Sorajin's family - And gods, does he appreciate it.  
But he _belongs_ here.  
He is never out of place amongst what they call "Flock Mates."  
Inan flips the table nearest him with only a look. "Pay attention!"  
Everyone goes silent. "Thank you. An intuitive soul has told me we're having some difficulty with our Tribal Mentality."  
"Don't want nothin ta do with those aakon." Aakon, _Favorite._  
Kieve has only heard that word once. It still insults him just as much as the first time. The man that had taught him the meaning of it had used it as an excuse to take Kieve's virginity.  
The old legend was that Full Bloods were created by the gods first. Then the Tarshish. And the gods always teetered with favoritism from one group to the other, fickle and selfish.  
Then, one day, they decided they didn't need the Full Bloods, that the Tarshish were superior in many ways. If it hadn't been for the first Leader and his Chosen, the Full Bloods would have been wiped out.  
Full Bloods had despised Tarshish after that.  
He stands, even though Enko grabs his arm, whispers, "Don't."  
But Inan beats him to it, the table flips. "There aren't aakon. And there aren't any haekon, either." Haekon, _Forgotten._ A frequent taunt from Tarshish who are angry at their circumstances and need to feel relief by trying to verbally put Full Bloods under their feet. Kieve has seen them try it many a time.  
He's also only seen a handful of Tarshish live to tell about it. "Everyone is one Race, here."  
"Even when a Tarshish murders a Full Blood? How can we let that slide?" Asks another, standing.  
"You've slain hundreds of us, thousands of each other! Don't bitch to us about the unfair treatment!" A Tarshish stands.  
" **No more!** " Roars Inan. "The murder is being investigated as we speak! Everyone needs to work together or we'll never get justice! Is that what you want?" When he gets no response, he says, "No? Then shut up and sit down and no more of this crap! You brats are supposed to be the cream of our island's crop and here you are acting four summers old."  
They're quick to do as they're told.  
"I should throw every last one of you pathetic naresuans out!"  
Ara and Naori both keep submissive postures through his rant. Bany, Naori's bonded, and Jekk, kneel on the floor, facing the other two. The other Assistants do the same.  
Finally, Inan shakes himself out. "Babysitters, keep these children in check."  
"Yes," His Assistants say in unison.  
"Are we clear?" He says to the room.  
"Yes, Sir," Everyone replies.

 

And everything goes back to some semblance of normal.  
Until the Full Blood's "hook up" is discovered dead at the end of the week.  
"Oh god," Whispers Enko when the news reaches them.  
The librarians claim to have heard nothing, said they never saw anyone else go into the farthest section of the library, out of sight of the book keepers, who were busy with students.  
It's claimed a suicide, but everyone knows it's murder.  
Because Tarshish rarely hang themselves. If ever.  
It's a shameful way to go, not to mention a horrific way, Full Bloods once used it to intimidate them.  
Now they use it to cleanse the souls of traitors. Those that choose a romantic relationship with Full Bloods or kill one of their own.  
But Tarshish that choose that path, are never sorry they did. Those that are raped, he's seen commit suicide this way.  
Kieve feels the burn with the other Tarshish at the death of one their own - one of _Kieve's_ own.  
They react differently than Full Bloods, crowding around the body as it's being taken away so they can say goodbye.  
Even if they never knew her.  
Full Bloods only ever seemed to mourn family or Pack. Strangers meant nothing more than competition.  
When asked, no one comes forward. No one admits to finding her.

 

"Those damn haekon," Whispers Enko. "All about their tit for tat."  
Kieve shakes his head. "I don't think it's them."  
Enko gives him a look. "Don't."  
"What do you want me to say? That I totally agree?" Kieve leans against the brick wall behind him. He's starting to feel like maybe he should turn round and speak to _it_. He'd probably have better results than in the conversation he knows is coming. "You heard Inan. One Race. We're all in the same boat."  
Enko's lips thin. "You don't really believe that, do you?"  
Kieve holds his gaze. "I do."  
The tension swells between them. Becomes almost suffocating. Kieve is waiting for the inevitable rejection. What he's been bracing himself for in all the time these Tarshish have been kind to him. While Enko searches his eyes, his face, his frame, he tries to breathe through the familiar misery that's materializing in the very lowest part of his belly and sliding upwards, spreading.  
God, he had actually, unknowingly convinced himself that he wouldn't have to give up this sweet-horrible-beautiful game of make believe.  
It leaves him angry at himself. Agitated towards Enko, who told him at every turn that he was one of them.  
"Once a Yona," He finally says, "always a Yona."  
Kieve draws his brows together, parts his lips.  
"They raised you - the Full Bloods - didn't they?"  
The disgust in Enko's voice isn't directed at him, he knows. "No. I had a family take me in."  
"Ugh," Says Enko. "All the habits you'll have to unlearn."  
He's perplexed at this. Enko glances at him, rolls his eyes. "You have no idea what your natural environment is like. Or even what you're like in it."  
Kieve is still tremendously confused. "This means you and our Flock Mates will teach me?"  
"Duh. We can't leave one of us out to dry with no knowledge of what he is."  
Kieve shrugs. "Of course I know what I am."  
"Have you ever been to the cliffs where you were born?"  
"We don't know I was born there."  
"We don't have young outside the cliffs. It just doesn't happen. Even women who live on the other side of the island, go there to give birth."  
Enko watches peevishly as Kieve sticks his hands in his pockets."What makes you so sure my mother was Tarshish?"  
"Because nearly every Full Blood Female lives through giving birth to Half Breeds. It's Humans and Tarshish that never seem to."

 

Another Full Blood is murdered and Inan sends everyone home for a week. He needs time to regroup, Kieve thinks.  
Enko takes him by the arm. "Come home with me."  
Kieve blinks. "You could take me to dinner first."  
Enko rolls his eyes, lets go of Kieve and makes his way to the Southeast.  
Other Tarshish join and separate as they go, stopping at an inn once or twice, it takes three days to get there.  
At the gates, Enko grabs Kieve's arm. "Take off your gloves."  
"What?"  
Enko pulls his own off and tucks them in his back pocket. A glance around at the other Tarshish that await the opening of the gates, reveals that none of the males are wearing gloves.  
Some of the females are wrapping their ankles but most of them are already wrapped.  
When the gates open, there's a crowd waiting for them. They cheer and sing and many, many of them whistle.  
There's a crush of bodies and Enko and Kieve are pushed forward, Enko whistles the same tune of the people surrounding them.  
A woman with dark hair and light purple eyes throws her arms around his neck, tangles a hand in thick orange hair.  
Kieve is overwhelmed at the sheer amount of people encircling them.  
There's an awful lot of talking and whistling going on and he's disoriented. His only anchor is busy with his woman.  
Finally, Enko grabs his wrist. "Come on." He takes his woman's hand and they make their way down into the tunnels that twist and wind and if Kieve was lost before, he's drowning now.  
They pass an underground house and a woman that Kieve thinks is Enko's mother comes out and wraps her arms around him, pulls him against her breast, his other brothers come out and hug him as well.  
Kieve realizes how alone he feels.  
The women are without Mokk'et and he feels nude without his gloves.  
Just when it's all too much, Enko takes him by the arm again and leads him through a tunnel that opens up to a cave. The waning light is enjoyable, especially to see the sun setting over the vast ocean.  
Someone brings a bottle of something that smells like alcohol and Enko offers it to Kieve.  
"Before you drink it, you have to do this," Enko says. He flicks the bottle twice, at the bottom with his middle finger.  
"Why?" Asks Kieve.  
Enko shrugs. "Just something we do. Only twice. And only with your middle finger. If you do it three times, you're asking for a refill. With the index or ring finger, and it's asking if they have anything better."  
"And you can't ask that?"  
Enko laughs. "Trust me, you won't need anything better for some time. This stuff makes Sahkmeh taste like pisswater."  
"What's it called?"  
"Pon."  
"Huh."  
His woman flicks hers twice, says something to him in their language and swigs from the bottle. Passing it to Enko, he does the same.  
Kieve follows. The burn is familiar but much, much stronger than he's used to.  
At his expression, Enko laughs. "Didn't drink very much, did they?"  
Kieve shakes his head. Renjin had been strict on sobriety. (Kieve secretly thinks that if she'd allowed them to drink, she'd be perpetually drunk.) Drinking was done in celebration of weddings and kills of huge, two headed animals that tended to roam the island.  
Sanchu loved to drink but not getting drunk. One could imagine the sweet eyes he'd turn on Renjin when he really needed a drink.  
Kieve lets out a quick exhale through his nose - maybe it's a laugh, he isn't sure - when he thinks about how hard Renjin had to fight not to give in to her husband's noiseles pestering.  
Enko grabs him by the arm again. "C'mon."  
"Where are we going?"  
They go back into the catacombs and tunnels and turn right through the maze that everyone but Kieve knows like the back of their hands.  
"I'm never going to be able to find my way out of this damn place."  
"Don't worry about it."

 

Kieve grips the doorway of the house they're shoving him into. "H-hey."  
"We can't let you go to our parties looking like you do," Says Enko.  
"And just what's wrong with the way I look, Enko?"  
"You look like them." And by _them_ , he means the Full Bloods.  
"So what-"  
"Not now. Not for this. Tonight," Says Enko, eyes shining with something Kieve can't place, "you are Tarshish."  
He's bathed, (which he does by himself, thank you.) dressed in something like a light blue, sleeveless tunic, connected to a set of trousers, that shows the center of his chest, the belt is bound with two long, red threads. His biceps are wrapped with soft, blue fabric with a subtle red border.  
Enko's color scheme is darker, black with blue accents.  
His wife is dressed in swirling white and purple patterns that match the color of her eyes. It sweeps to her ankles.  
The party is already in full swing when they arrive. Kieve is introduced to all of Enko's contacts.  
Women look over him slowly, the men size him up. It takes awhile for him to understand what's happening. They can detect he isn't purely theirs.  
But Enko doesn't even acknowledge the looks, fills Kieve's glass, his wife's, and then his own.  
Everyone is, at least, pleased with their new addition.  
With smiles and laughter and a gentle touch, Enko and his wife, Mo'ya, teach him how to dance the way they do.  
And he had never seen Enko smile like this until they arrived.  
"Enjoying yourself?" The person who's linked arm in arm with him - on the left side, Mo'ya is on the right - shouts above the din Kieve has relinquished himself to. It's loud and colorful and he loves it. Has never loved this much noise and color before now.  
"Yeah," He says, turning to look at the woman.

And coming face to face with Ara.

"What's wrong?" She asks. "Never seen a pure blood before?"  
He laughs at the reference. "Sorry. I'm a little tipsy right now."  
"Aren't we all?" She asks.  
"Probably," He shouts back, he can't hear himself think.  
He finds he's okay with it.  
People are separating from the circles and Ara is drawing him away, to one of the banquet tables.  
The food is amazing, makes him wonder if he would feel the same way about all of this if he were to have been raised here.  
He lets Ara sit before scooting her chair in and sitting across from her.  
"You look different."  
_I smell different, too_ , He thinks, but doesn't say.  
She reaches across the table, takes his hand in hers. "You look so happy with us."  
He was. He is so happy. But it's too soon to know if this is his place or not. It's too easy to just say it is and fake it. But he wants to mean it. To know if this is really where he should be.  
Maybe he just feels this way because he's drunk. He knows intimately well that can change how a person sees everything.  
Looking into Ara's eyes gives him chills.  
He knows that look. A glance at their joined hands and Kieve pulls back as though burned, is unable to fathom that he has missed everything. That he was so lost in the noise and the joy that he's utterly missed Ara's seduction of him.  
And yet he is relieved that his training from all those years ago is fading. Like a dream. Like no one but Sorajin has ever touched his skin.  
And now Ara.  
No, she hasn't even gotten to first check point. But she has been friendly enough - waited until he was drunk and comfortable enough, to do what she knows he feels is wrong.  
Some part of him feels skewed. No one else here worries about bare hands on bare hands. Not that he can tell.  
Although the women hide their ankles and men wear all sorts of things over their biceps.  
Ara's hand plays with his rings. "Where'd you get these?" She asks softly.  
"That's not polite," He says. "Asking about mine when I haven't even seen yours."  
Ara smiles devilishly at him. "You really want to?"  
He shrugs. "Yeah."  
She stands. "I can't show you here."  
He stands, too. He's thankful that he's sober enough to over think everything.  
It means he isn't going to be unwillfully taken advantage of.  
The only upside to his racing, stirring thoughts.  
She takes him through a few tunnels and back to a quaint little place. It doesn't look as though anyone has been there for years but it's kept in shape. "This is yours?"  
"Yeah," She says. "When Inan lets me come home."  
"Why did he let you this time," He asks. There are portraits of Ara and what he assumes is her family, considering just under half of them have pink hair.  
She comes to stand beside him, very lightly taking his hand once more. "To celebrate the home coming of our lost."  
Kieve wonders if they'd still feel like this if his father had been the Tarshish.  
Probably not.  
He tries not to think too hard about it.  
Ara's fingers entertwine with his and he wonders if this is going to be a one time thing or....?  
"I barely know you." There are other Assistants that she could pursue a romantic relationship with.  
Why is she looking at him?  
"Do you want to see my enhancer?"  
Oh yeah. That's why he was standing in the middle of her sitting room. He follows her into her bedroom. A small space with a hammock hung beside the far wall.  
She unfastens her belt with skilled ease and her dress slides open. He freezes, torn between, _No. You can't do this. It's wrong_ , and, _Good gods is she beautiful._  
He should have turned his back. Should have- She lights a lantern and he just wants to touch her.  
That's it.  
That's all.  
The gleam of her eyes, the way the flame of the lantern bathes her skin in a pleasant glow.  
He's too drunk for this. And the only thing that keeps them apart is how aware he is that even sober, those threads on his belt are knotted in a way he can't untie without breaking them.  
Thank Yinkya.  
She parts her dress wider, watching him intently. Then she unties the string attached to the fabric of her undergarments and the lower piece falls away.  
He hates how he knows she knows he wants her.  
Thankful that she ignores it as she approaches him, graceful and silent as a big cat.  
He swallows once, twice as she stands silently in front of him.  
Can feel his body string tight and every one of his senses home in on her when she takes his hand and guides it to the apex of her thighs. She jumps when his fingers brush against her clit. And maybe he jumps a little, too. It takes him a moment to realize that her enhancer is a piercing on the little pink pearl.  
"Didn't that hurt?"  
"Like a bitch. But Bakubakk, is it sensitive."  
"In a good way?"  
She nods. "Also, they can't take my enhancer if they can't find it."  
He can feel her drawing his fingers further between her legs. "Smart."  
She smiles and she's slick as hell when one of his fingers slip inside. Her eyes close, head tilting back.  
Suddenly, he wishes he'd asked to keep his barbell. Ironically, Renjin had encouraged him to throw it. A sign he'd never be under her hands again.  
Although it isn't like Ara will know the difference. Touching the pierced button makes her hiss and grip his wrist.  
She reaches around and he feels a tug before his belt slacks and his tunic comes open - Further open, anyways.  
In this moment, he isn't sure if he should try to remember his training or push it all away and try to play shy virgin.  
_Too late_ , He thinks as she shoves him against a wall, mouth fierce.

 

 _Oh Yinkya_ , He thinks. _What did I do to myself?_ He rolls over and hates himself just a little.  
Ara.  
He's also got a hang over and the bright light of the lantern isn't helping anything.  
He drags himself out of the hammock and pulls on his clothes. He's pretty sure this was a one time thing. She wouldn't have time for him once she went back to working for Inan.  
She groans and rolls over. "No round three?"  
It occurs him that he's just used someone for sex. Nevermind that the intention was mutual. For someone like him, it's just wrong.  
_But it's consensual_ , He reminds himself. _There's the difference. Even if it's still wrong, it's not as wrong as-_  
Ara drags herself to her feet. "I guess not," She says. "Bath is this way."  
Round three does actually happen, he's sorry to admit. There's also a round four.

Okay, so he should be sorry but he isn't.

Enko welcomes him and doesn't ask him what he's been doing. They both know Enko knows anyways.  
Other Tarshish, and even some he's met at Inan's, come to poke and prod and greet him so they can ask all about him.  
He tries to dodge any question he knows he can't answer without causing a stir.  
Yes, his mother was Tarshish. No, she didn't live through his birth. Yes, he was taken in by Full Bloods. No, nobody hurt him there.  
He's exhausted by the end. Enko offers his bed for him to sleep in.  
The week passes by with work, mourning their dead, and Ara always bringing him back to her bed, sometimes not even for sex.  
The first time she asks him to just lie down with her, he does. She snuggles underneath his arm and lies her head on his chest. He's uncomfortable and surprised then. Because he's attracted to her, and she answers his questions about her.

But something feels off.

It's on the tip of his tongue but he can't place it.  
Finally, they have to return to Inan's compound.  
Mo'ya bids them a tearful, loving goodbye before they go and Enko promises to return as quickly as possible.

 

Inan watches them with piercing eyes as they enter. Many cower under his gaze.  
Ara smiles sweetly at him though. Naori, Bany, and Jekk, among many other Assistants, are released from his compound. Having patiently awaited their time.  
Which means Ara doesn't get sent out until they return. He's not all that excited when he's on the list of Ara's selected protegès.  
"You think she's hot, right?" Asks Enko.  
"Yes," Drawls Kieve. "But she is just all over me. No sense of space."  
"Trust me," Says Enko. "It's a good thing. The moment she wants space, you won't want to give it to her. Enjoy it while it lasts."

 

Oh, **gods.** He's about ready to do anything to make it stop. There's ribbon that's wound from his shoulders to his wrists, where he's tied to some pipes overhead. His legs are chained open and he really regrets letting Ara know about Sorajin. He never gave her the man's name, but he had mentioned the relationship.

"Kieve?" She asks when she steps in to the spacious prayer closet. It's one of the old ones that people don't use anymore. "Inan sent me to tell you meditation time is over."  
Kieve's been meditating, alright. He moans through the gag when her hand drags over the sensitive flesh of his chest. Shivers as she strokes his aching length.

She's slow to turn off the machine she's rigged to fuck him and he groans, drops his chin against his chest. She slides up behind him and leaves sloppy kisses against his neck, under his ear while she strokes his erection with slow, frustrating strokes.  
What he'll never mention is the flashbacks that he's been fighting off a lot more recently.  
She doesn't know what he was before Sorajin and these games she's been playing with him give the memories teeth. Sometimes, it is hard to convince himself that he's safe. That no one is going to do something to him he doesn't want.

"Don't come." She whispers against his ear. That'll be next to impossible, considering Sorajin had never asked him to hold back and - Fuck. He groans as she releases the cock ring, instantly backs off of him, bares him to the cold air.  
"Be a good boy," She purrs. And he hates to say it, but he's not worried about keeping his orgasm at bay. Not at all. Now it's a struggle to stay aroused so he doesn't have to explain why he's just not anymore.  
There's whispers of clothing before she presses against him and he desperately presses back, trying to reassure himself as he braces, grips the ribbon around his arms. Her fingers play with his nipples as she slowly slides the fake dick into him, pressing hips flush against him. A choked sound escapes him and she groans low and throaty against his shoulder. She eases out, wraps a hand lightly around his slick cock, and pushes back in, pushing his hips into her hand. Arousal flushes hot again. That body pushing and pulling him into those waiting hands. The hot breath against his shoulder. The surging pleasure as the pace gets rough, almost punishing.  
He cries out in the gag and the hand that's been playing with his nipples, touches him everywhere and he wants it to.  
The breath against his shoulder is coming out in soft pants. He finds himself pushing back onto the body buried inside him. He's so close his thighs are trembling.  
_Please_ , He gasps against the gag. The pipes creak and a leg presses against his spreading it further, pushing that cock deeper. He can feel himself arching, knows he's crying out louder than he should.  
_Please_ , He begs. _Please let me cum._ The gag makes him sound like a pitiful animal. _Oh gods_ , He sobs. _Oh, Sora-_ Kieve's shocked at himself when he realizes he isn't here, with Ara who's fucking him senseless in a prayer room. He's still two thousand miles away, under his once-master's hands.  
He focuses on his orgasm after that. Trying not to let on that he was just seriously committing sin number four in the lover's handbook.  
She never says anything about it if she heard him through the gag.

 

"I noticed you're quite devout to prayer," Says Inan. There's an implication in his voice that he thinks Kieve isn't actually praying. "Something specific you're petitioning for?"  
"My family," He blurts. At Inan's look, he says, "They can't stay out of trouble."  
"Indeed?" Kieve nods. "You're dismissed then."  
Kieve nods turns to go but pauses. "Sir?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Are any of Ara's other students praying as much as I?"  
There's a long pause and Kieve starts thinking about all the ways he can ask for a transfer without making Ara look bad.  
"Not that I can think of."  
Relief floods his frame. "Thank you, Master Inan."  
"Why did you want to know?"  
"I wondered if anyone else needed prayer."

 

Ara doesn't have as much time to work on their training when the other Assistants return. Many of them, including Ara, are sent out to do things for Inan, who then takes over the students left behind.  
They are, technically, still worthy of being his students.  
He doesn't see Enko very often until then.  
His expression is worried, lips thinned when they do meet.  
He does it for days but doesn't say a word.  
Finally, Kieve is fed up with it. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"  
He leans his head close to Kieve's. "You're unhappy."  
"No, I'm not. I'm fine," He whispers. It sounds like a hiss.  
"Who is making you ' _fine_ '?"  
"No one. I choose to be fine."  
Enko withdraws when Kieve spits the word 'choose.'  
"You obviously haven't chose anything."  
He snatches Enko by the arm. "I don't like it when you push me like this."  
"You didn't used to mind it. Now you're skulking around like a shame-filled harlot."  
Enko slides under the hand that shoots towards him, Kieve has surprised himself again. Enko is beside him now. "Whatever you're hiding has made you unhappy." Enko walks away after that.  
He doesn't know how he's going to discourage a Tarshish uprising if he can't even get a grip on his private life.  
Sorajin sends him news that there's been an army attacking Rozolyn's Territory. Full Bloods trying to take it over.  
And while Sorajin nor Kieve care for Renjin's younger sister, he's concerned for her children.

 

When Ara selects Kieve for a specific mission, Enko volunteers as well. Inan allows it.  
"What did I say to you?" Kieve says to Enko.  
Enko shrugs. "What did I say to you?" At Kieve's glare, he says, "You're one of us."  
"Alright," Says Ara. "This is a diplomatic mission. Your goal is to smooth relations between the Tarshish settled near Kuden's Clan."  
"I thought relations were already good over there," Says Kieve.  
"They're decent. But strained."

 

Princess Yanrik is beautiful. Large blue eyes, blonde hair, and soft pink lips, she's a perfect mix of Queen Kuden and her late husband, General Xerxes.  
Renjin had mentioned him grudgingly a time or two. Called him a ' _Good Samaritan_ ,' whatever that meant. Funny enough, Sorajin knew what it meant, almost instantly. He must have been outstanding for Renjin to speak well of him.  
She's a rare, attractive half-Xii, and there _is_ a difference between the sub-races of Full Blood. Even though there are mainly three sub-races. There are a few mutations Kieve has seen. But it's hella rare.  
The main ones are Xii, Rogue, and Fall Back.  
Yanrik smiles at them. But it's Kuden who speaks. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."  
"Madam," Says Kieve. "What has happened?"  
Kuden's lips twist. "One of my men has caused an accident with your people. It's killed three of them and they're unwilling to take any good will from us."  
Kieve and Enko glance at each other. "Then we'll see what we can do."  
The trip to the Tribe takes an hour. At some distance, Kieve can already tell the lead woman is a battle ax.  
"The Queen tells us you two aren't getting along," Says Enko.  
The woman scowls. "We want her out of her position. If she can't control her men, she ought'nt have any."  
"Not all of us can leash our men," Says Kieve. "And she appears to want to make it right. What's stopping you?"  
The woman thins her lips. "We don't take provisions from haekon."  
Kieve sighs. "Then I would move if I were you."  
Enko takes him by the arm. "Kieve."  
"They've been good to our people. It's awful that anybody has died but they want to make it some semblance of right. And if she doesn't like Kuden then she can go somewhere else."  
Both the woman and Enko stare at him.  
"I can't believe they always send us traitors," Mutters the woman. "Go home. You two are useless. We'll sort it out ourselves."

 

"Whose side are you on, Kieve?"  
"Nobody's, okay? I don't take sides, I do what's right."  
"And what's right is that you put our people first."  
"No, it isn't."  
They give Kuden the news and she tightens security.  
Tarshish attack that night, breaking down doors with full intent, leaving blood spattered all over the halls. Every Tarshish from the offending Tribe is killed. But Kuden is dead.  
They find Yanrik in their closet, shaking and crying softly.

Kuden's Kingdom has fallen over night.


	40. Dirty Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maque, believes that getting your hands dirty is something that can't be avoided.  
> But if Raiton and Tonro are spared the darkness, she will gladly soak it in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-consensual pretty much all throughout.  
> There's also some sadism because Maque is a lot meaner and invested in people than I originally planned for.

When Maque was a child, she used to wonder what her family was like. The Headmaster assured her that she wasn't missing much. That he was her father, his assistant, her mother.  
And all of the other Fall Backs, her siblings.  
Even the ones that teased her and called her ugly.  
Their Headmaster always went out of his way to assure them they were light of his life.  
Maque felt important. But no more important than Phaniil or Garo.

 

But Raiton and Tonro are hers. And she is theirs.  
"Can you charm something for me?" Asks Tonro.  
"What?"  
He gestures to the stud in his ear. "I would like to be able to amplify abilities."  
"That's a humble request," Says Maque.  
"Yes, but it's useful."  
Maque has never charmed a mineral before. Rarely practises on metal. Glass is her forte for reasons she often guesses at.  
Maybe one of her parents? Or their parents?  
Is she a mutation or is it a family trait?  
Her fingers touch the stone in his ear. There's a _snap-crackle-pop_ and he grimaces at how close that charm has come to his head.  
"There," She says. "I don't know how well it'll work."

 

"Sit," The Headmaster says to Maque. She thinks he's angry that she's charmed Tonro's jewelry. She knows that they ought not to do such a thing.  
"There's a quandary to be dealt with."  
"Something with a facile solution, I hope," She says slowly.  
The Headmaster folds his arms. "The Tarshish are a threat. I expect you to do what you can to quench them."  
"Why me?"  
He smiles. "You are my most prodigious student."  
Maque doubts that.  
"And you comprehend the pressing need that is our survival."  
"What needs to be done?"

 

Inan relocated her and she didn't realize how easy he had just made everything. But now, she knows that she's to be trained behind the scenes. Inan has a bad feeling and needs special ops for every Race.

 

When the murders happen, Maque is speechless.

It's starting.

Much sooner than she expected. The new Tarshish ops that Inan has chosen are now in danger. And are a danger to Maque.  
Because she's friends with the two girls.  
And this Tarshish, whomever he is, can't stand Tarshish on good terms with Full-Bloods.  
"Go away," She snaps the day after the girl is found hanging. "You people are reeking bad aura!"  
The girls, naturally sweet, so naive Maque can breathe and inhale the innocence, recoil from her as though she's physically attacked them.  
"Lay off," Says Kevierkets. "Can't you be nice to anyone that isn't sticking their dick in you?"  
"Can't you keep anyone _from_ sticking their dick in you?"  
Kevierkets scowls, runs the tip of his middle finger along his cheekbone and the Tarshish that have been dogging Maque's steps gasp.  
They know the gesture, what it means. Maque doesn't know why they're surprised that people actually use it.  
"Oh, Kieve," Says one girl with teal hair. "Don't be ugly."  
Kevierkets rolls his eyes. "Don't let her be ugly to you."  
And Maque knows this isn't just old rivalry. These native Tarshish have found their way into Kevierkets' head. He's not standing up for the girls to pick a fight with Maque like he used to.

He's standing up for them because they're Tarshish.

She debates on if she should mention it, ask him how Sorajin feels about his new Tribal Mentality. But it's too soon. He is utterly unaware they've changed him.  
He'll just deny it.  
"Did we do something wrong, Maa?" Asks the other Tarshish after Kevierkets has gone on his way.  
She steps close to them, pulls them closer. "I am afraid for your lives. Stay away from Full Bloods and don't be friendly to me." They take her advice to heart. Bully her with harsh words and repentant eyes.

 

When they get sent home for a week, they stop at a bar, Maque settling herself into Tonro's lap, drinks with them before falling into bed with them. She doesn't want to think about what's coming.  
When they're sleeping, she rises out of the Human-styled bed, sits down in the middle of the washroom floor and contacts _Him._  
"Good night?" He asks.  
"Neutral."  
He blinks slowly. "I am able to see that you have noticed it's begun."  
"Is there anything we can do to hold it off?"  
There's silence for a long moment. "Kuden has made a mistake. As soon as the week is over and you've checked in, go to greet her. Kill every Tarshish in the Tribe that neighbors her."  
"Should she not face her own mishaps?"  
"If she falls, it's demoralizing to the other Kingdoms. A sign that Tarshish are as formidable as they appear not to be."  
"Anything else?"  
"Learn everything you can about the man that's leading his army of exiles. He will, at some point, become either our antagonist or our ally."  
"Yes, Sir."  
She lies out on the cold tile floor for awhile.  
A sharp cry from Tonro wakes her from her trance-like state.  
Upon entering, she is both jealous and aroused to find them pursuing round four without her. She watches them for a moment, Tonro arched against Raiton while in his lap, back to Raiton's chest.  
"Sluts," Says Maque.  
"If it isn't our queen."  
She sniffs, crawls onto the bed and Tonro is shoved down atop her. Thankfully, they don't have anywhere they need to be. Raiton's siblings are still sleeping soundly in the other room. Tonro let's out a keening sound as he's guided into Maque.  
"Ooh, fuck," He says, knocking his forehead against her shoulder. She tangles her right hand in his hair, her left in Raiton's, pulling him down for a kiss.  
She may not like her job, but she'll do it to keep her family alive.  
She'll do it for these two. For Raiton's siblings. And for the two Tarshish that exude innocence.

 

Kevierkets' mood darkens some time after the break. And Maque knows it's Ara.  
She's got a stranglehold on Kieve.  
But, in his own way, so does Enko.  
"Disgusting, isn't it?" Asks Marco. "How shameless they are in the manipulation of each other."  
"It's easy," Says Maque. "Especially since he isn't one of them."  
Marco gives her a strange look. "Ah?"  
"He's only a half."  
Marco crinkles his nose. "You two go back, right? You should say something to him."  
"Too early."  
"Better early than late," Says Marco. "He'll be angered that you allowed him into folly."

She decides she'll deal with him when she gets back from her mission.  
No sooner has she slipped into the palace, do the Tarshish attack. She slaughters as many as she can while trying to get to Kuden before they do.  
Much to Maque's frustration, there's six of them advancing on Kuden, Yanrik is behind her.  
"Mom?"  
Kuden is calm, no fear. "I love you, Yanrik. And I'm so, so proud of you."  
Two lunge and she kills one, is run through by the other before she kills him, too. Yanrik darts off into the halls and Kuden keeps them from going after her.  
Her strikes are precise even while wounded and Maque is amazed by her. Out of the shadows slides a Tarshish that isn't dressed like the natives.  
Maque instantly knows there's a bigger game being played here.  
She, herself shoots out of the dark as he draws a line on the carpet with his foot.  
She hits it with such force that she accidentally shatters herself.  
Everywhere she attempts to attack him, there's a boundary. She's thankful when she's pushed him near a mirror.  
She sinks her teeth into his shoulder as soon as she's out of the mirror and he whistles, lets out a single, shrill note, before sliding a knife from his sleeve and thrusting it into her. She cries out as his knife finds flesh. Kuden is watching with utter confusion.  
Maque grips the black mask over the face of the Tarshish as he hauls her from the mirror, stabs her again, and throws her to the floor. She's gasping and tries to get up but can't. The Tarshish has her under a charm.  
"It's **you** ," Says Kuden. "But you were supposed to-" The sound of Kuden's body hitting the floor and the wet sounds that fill the seconds that tick by, stay in Maque's dreams long after this night. Kuden never screams once, only makes choked, pained sounds.  
Maque lies in silence, waiting for the man to finish her, too, as he stands over her. The flat blade slides along her cheek, smears the late Queen's blood over her face.  
She refuses to be afraid of him. But she fights hard when he starts cutting her out of her clothes. She wonders if this would have been particularly sexy in a different context.  
He leaves her in her thigh-high heels, giving away what Maque has always sort of guessed at: Tarshish are capable of kink.  
Her corset is untied, unfastened at the front and his hands slide over the fishnet on her arms. Something is tied around her head as a blindfold.  
What gives him away as a pure blood Tarshish is that he has utterly no interest in what's under her Mokk'et.

 

She is careful when she walks, favoring her sore lower body as much as she can. She can't help the defeated slump of her shoulders.  
She has to stop every few hours to change the bandage on her side where he stabbed her.  
It's funny that she's more angry at her defeat than the way he used his knives on her.  
She's had the intimacy of sex trained out of her by the Headmaster. He always said something like this might happen and it would be for the best if she could learn to deal with it.

Kieve and Enko return with Princess Yanrik and Maque volunteers for guard detail. Strangely, so does Enko.  
He says it's to make up for their failure to help her mother.  
What he's really going to do, Maque knows, is keel over and pretend to be mortally wounded as soon as one of his brethren comes to kill her. Maque is blonde, but she's no moron.

 

It's time to talk to Kieve and she waits til Ara has left him to his meditation, although why she feels the need to escort him, then take so long to leave, Maque can only guess.  
There's gasping and groaning, and the quiet hum of... Something. But Maque knows not what it could be.  
When she enters, she resists the urge to leave again.  
She should have known that he wasn't praying.  
But this might be a turning point for him.  
He's gagged and blindfolded, tied down on his back with a machine partaking in his body.  
Her fingers brush the tears dripping from the wet blindfold. He turns, presses into her hand and she knows she has to be careful lest he realize she isn't Ara.  
She kisses him over the gag, runs her fingers over the fine, light purple hair on his chest. And notices a wound, mostly healed, on his shoulder. He presses into her hand.  
She pulls away and his breath hitches. He starts writhing and pulling hard against his restraints. Maque ignores him in favour of trying to understand how the machine works. She inches the knob one way, then the other, gradually figuring out how to turn it down.  
She runs her fingers over the dusting of hair on his stomach as she comes back to standing over him. His muscles ripple in her wake.  
His arousal is dripping but Maque isn't quite ready to pay attention to it.  
Her little finger hooks into the gag, pulls it from his mouth.  
"Ara." Her hand cups the side of his face lightly in response. "Ara, it's too much. I tried but I can't do this."  
Maque runs a hand through his hair, twirls one of the longer strands around her finger.  
He lets out a hitching breath. "I-I'm sorry. I know you're disappointed with me."  
Maque sighs through her nose, feeling sorry for him.

What she's about to do to him.

"I'm sorry," He says again. "This just reminds me too much of-" Maque is sure to be light when her fingertips cover his mouth. She hopes to imply she understands.  
In reality, she doesn't want him unknowingly spilling his guts.  
She kisses his jawline and he seeks her mouth, kisses her like she's his air.  
She lightly drags her nails up and down his fluttering abdominals.  
"Ara?"  
She moves to turn off the machine, is careful when she removes it from him. Her fingers trail up his legs, leaving goose flesh. His cock twitches when her hand draws near to it.  
"Ara, _please."_ His voice crackles as he speaks. He sounds like she's been playing with him for some time. She releases the ring holding his rigid flesh captive and draws her fingertips up the underside of his throbbing erection.  
His back arches as she takes him into her mouth, moans through gritted teeth.  
He makes broken, begging noises when she drags her tongue over the glans on the underside.  
Sobs when she takes him completely inside, nose brushing against his pubic hair allowed to grow wild.  
A good, strong suck or two has him bucking into her mouth, screaming Ara's name as he spills down her throat. She swallows slowly as she runs her hands over his stomach and chest and thighs.  
When she pulls off him, she licks the string of cum that's left.  
"Thank you," He breathes. "For coming back. It means a lot to me that you're considering my boundaries."  
She rubs her cheek against his thigh, debates on if she's really okay with this.  
But it's for Kieve's own good, isn't?  
She slides away and he picks up his head, looks for her even though he's blinded.  
He knows when she's standing over him. His lips parted, the corners tilting downwards. "What's wrong?"  
He gasps as his head snaps to the side with the force of the blow. He's stunned, mouth parted, lower lip split. And some part of her gets off on both his pain and pleasure.  
He turns to her, opens his mouth wider to speak but Maque doesn't give him the opportunity. The back of her hand collides with his face again.  
"A-Ara?"  
She settles his cock ring over his navel, slides the gag over his mouth, he resists and she gives him small, light slaps to his face until he takes it in.  
The machine is put in the same spot Ara left it in. She pities Kevierkets. He's trembling as she kisses his forehead. He's sensitive, fucking him with the machine will be utter agony until his body is ready for another orgasm.  
She slaps him on the thigh and he's fervently shaking his head. She twists her fingers in his hair, tilts his head back, and laves her tongue over his throat. His breath hitches.  
His shaking gets worse when her teeth close lightly over it. She pulls away, turns the machine to a decent pace and starts looking through his clothes for those knives. The ones he would have used on her if he was the one that killed Kuden.  
He's calling Ara's name through the gag with hitching breaths. She's gone and made him cry.  
Poor thing.  
When she comes back and slaps his exposed hind quarters, he starts to sniffle. There's tears running down his face again.  
She knows she's sick when she notices how slick with desire she is while he cries, sobs.  
How much pleasure she's getting out of his fear and pain and confusion.  
She shuts the door and it's a force of will to ignore his screams not to be left the way he is.

His relationship with Ara is strained for at least two weeks after the incident.  
How it should be if he really believes the woman he's having those kinds of relations with would do something like that to him.  
Enko avoids Maque, doesn't want anything to do with her. She wonders if he knows what she did to Kevierkets.  
"Are you okay?" Raiton asks out of the blue.  
She looks at him for a moment. Is she? Should she spill her guts? No. She'd have to tell every detail to Raiton. And he always loves new sex partners, but he will be furious about the way the Tarshish used her. Outraged that Maque left Kieve begging and broken on a table.  
"I'm fine," She says. "But I need you and Tonro to be really careful."  
Raiton nods. "We will."

She feels guilty when she looks up a her handiwork. An unsuspecting Tarshish dangles from the rafters.  
She knows without a doubt they were working for the rebels. But they never wanted to go so far that they wound up at the end of a rope.  
She needs to stir them up, try to get the real Hunters on the blood trail.

Up on the roof, Maque is tanning.  
Tonro and Raiton are quiet for a long time.  
"Have you talked to your dad?" Tonro asks, looking at the drifting clouds.  
Raiton shakes his head. "Aunt Tevil says he's looking for us."  
"This a good place to be."  
"I don't hate my dad. I just want him to make mom take her meds."  
"Why doesn't he just send her to Humans?" Asks Tonro. The doctors had told them that being around her own kind would likely fix her. Chante hadn't wanted to give up his way of life, nearly unable and unwilling to be tamed.  
So their mother descended into madness.  
Raiton is pretty upset about it, even if he doesn't give any indication.  
He lies beside her, tattoos the color of gold climbing like vines up the 'V' between his narrow hips.  
It bears no association to Haunku's Clan, one his father is closely affiliated with. Maque wonders why he had them put there, traces them idly.  
"Where do we go after your training, Maque?"  
She gives a measuring glance to Tonro, looks at Raiton. His fingers run over the tips of her hair with a sort of reverence.  
"To mainland. I crave to know what's there."  
Raiton and Tonro look to each other.  
Tonro rests his hand on her knee. "Are you sure?"  
"Unless you don't want to. We can go somewhere else. But I'm curious."  
Raiton sits up. "I'll check with Qett and Dokta."  
When he's gone, Tonro looks at her. "You've done something."  
"I've done a lot of little somethings. And the moment They can't use me anymore, They'll throw me to the eschneider and never think of me again."  
Tonro is anxious then. "Maque. What have you done to yourself. To us?"  
Maque sighs. "Tonro. It's for the good of you. Of Qett and Dokta and Raiton-"  
"If you actually loved Raiton and I, you wouldn't put yourself in this position."  
Her bright blue eyes meet his. They're nearly seafoam green. "Don't even question that I'm willing to fight and to die to keep you and Raiton alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter needs to be messed with a lot more. But I'm done with it for now.


	41. Before Your First Cup of Tea in The Morning (And Before You Lie Down at Night)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiikets is really starting to hate the traditions set before King Sonere brought unity to the island.  
> But, the traditions are typically there for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same awkward anatomy from before.  
> Because... Reasons. A lot of it has been taken out... I'm not entirely sure if this one or the other version is better.  
> Violence, too.  
> Good thing we're coming to end of this series, right?

When the Pride is established, Chiikets is "encouraged" to do an old tradition.  
Chiikets is really starting to hate the traditions set before King Sonere brought unity to the island.  
But, the traditions are typically there for a reason.

 

In the cool air of early Autumn, signaling that time of year again, he settles his hand lightly onto the crown of Kajiim's head.  
The quiet girl gives him a startled look, afraid this tradition will include her. Thankfully, it doesn't.  
If they don't marry her off by next year, it will.  
"Where is Honjin?" This is who he will start with. She is pretty and a good warrior. Her relation to Chante means her blood is good, too. He ended with her last year. Not that she really cares either way.  
Kajiim points in the direction of the stream.  
This confuses Chiikets.  
It's too cool to be playing in the water.  
Upon his arrival, he realizes it isn't the water she has sought out.  
The noises she makes rouse his curiosity. He knows what she's doing - rather, what's being done to her - but there's always consent to account for.  
With a soft sigh, steeling himself for the images he's about to stupidly assault his own brain with, he draws one of his knives, the length of a Female's forearm, from its sheath on his right hip. There's a matching knife on his left but he has high doubts he'll need it.  
When he glances at them, he wants to stab his eyes out. (Regardless of the fact that half an hour ago, he fully intended to see Honjin naked.)  
The sex is utterly consensual. Good for them.  
Part of him wants to chase off the other Male and he ignores it. Honjin is able to partake with whomever she pleases so long as she does it before Spring. Preferably before late Winter.  
The children have to be old enough to survive the harsh Winters.  
Honjin's voice reaches a crescendo as he slips back into the thick greenery.  
It's sort of typical for Honjin to do her own thing, so he doesn't worry about whoever she's with.  
If she becomes pregnant, he will be forced to deal with it.  
The man she's with will be qualified to challenge him to a death match with no intervention from the rest of the Clan.  
But the Male didn't appear to be too formidable.  
As soon as the thought comes, the image resurfaces and it's all Chiikets can do to push it down, to will it away. "Oh, Yinkya. I wish she had told me what she was doing."  
"Are you praying?" Asks Asheer, eyebrow quirked in what's probably amusement.  
"Sort of," He says.  
"I think," She touches her middle fingertip in the small dip between her bottom lip and chin. A sexual come on from every point of view, "you can do more useful things with that mouth."  
He gives her what he hopes is a casual once-over. "Oh?"  
Her lips twitch. "My slick quajen needs some attention."  
_Well_ , He thinks, _that was forward._ "Suppose I should give some to it?"  
The look she gives him makes him think he's about to be the one eaten. His pants tighten just a little. He should be turning her down. She's too pushy.  
And with his luck, she'll become heavy with his child, ascend in rank, and terrorize the other Females.  
Should he pull out?  
That would bring her disgrace if anyone knew. It would shame her even if people didn't.  
There's nothing he can do except to hope nothing comes of it. He'd be a sort of idiot not to mate with her.  
An utter _fool_ to get her pregnant.

 

For a woman full of temper and violence, she's remarkably tender, albeit a screamer. Their rut is a brisk one, and not on his behalf. She likes it hot and rough.  
He's just this side of thankful when it's over.  
When he was a younger man, first stepping out into the world, he would have gladly had and tended to his own harem, let them sort things out for themselves.  
But now, he plays their politics, walks that careful line between quajen and tyrant. Keeps one woman from abusing the others and stares down any uncouth behavior with little tolerance.  
He can hardly believe any man at all would want something so exhausting.  
He doesn't dare enter Denii's quarters. She's moaning and Kajmir is gasping something in some foreign language Chiikets thinks is called "Frank." He thinks that it's a stupid name but the Humans are the ones that taught it to him.  
He really isn't sure how his friend convinced them to teach him Frank, it's a strange language. He's taught Denii some of it so he can practice it.  
Ironically, he still isn't worried about his Second trying to overthrow him, even if he can't understand their conversations  
" _J'taime_ ," Breathes his friend as the cool down on the other side of the door begins.  
He can't believe he's stood there, musing long enough for it to be over.  
"Mon ami?" Asks Kajmir as Chiikets turns to creep away. This word he does know: _Friend_. "Is everything alright?" He thinks Denii is trying to recapture Kajmir's attention, they've gone back to sloppy kissing and Chiikets figures he's off the hook, long forgotten in favour of Denii's mouth.

 

There are way too many women that lie in wait for him. Literally.  
When he drops face first into the bed beside Shiseken, she is slow to face him. "Productive day?"  
"Barely." Between pinning down Females (being pinned down by them is more like it), he has to chop wood, check their traps, trim the nails of their meeks and make sure the squeaky animals are cared for.  
He has to set new traps, secure new animal skins to the stable, reap whatever he can out of the fields before Fall truly sets in, the list goes on and on.  
And he's never been so grateful to have Kajmir and the other subordinate Males.  
Who still can't seem to win Kajiim over.  
Shiseken runs her fingers through his hair. He thinks, that at the pace they're going, everybody is going to scrape through Winter.  
They won't thrive, but it's enough that his Clan makes it.  
When he turns his head to look at her, she's lying on her side, watching him with warmth.  
"Enough energy for one more?"  
"Unf." Is all he says. A cross between a grunt and a huff.  
She stops him when he goes to roll over, straddles his hips.  
She could kill him right now. His guard is down that far.  
Her hands, callused, rough, and so very skilled, drag up his back, pushing his shirt with them and baring his skin. He tries to stay relaxed as her knuckles press deep into his muscle. "Does having sex all day _really_ stress you out?"  
Ah. There's yet another issue to resolve. Should that be at the top of the list or on another one completely?  
She doesn't dig her nails in when he is slow to respond, always the patient one between them. "It isn't just sex."  
Her hands pause and he realizes that maybe he shouldn't speak at all. "It's politics. Keeping my place at the top." His shifts, awkwardly slides his hand up her right calf, then downward to her ankle. "And you as my lady."  
And that's, really, what all of this is about. The winning man is the one with the biggest Clan and the most children.  
The winning woman is the one that has beared him the most. Bearing a son brings better rewards in this particular Clan.  
"Asheer is dead set on changing that."  
"She can _try_ ," Says Chiikets.

He's able to let himself relax when her body (along with Laniika and Kiste,) shows signs of being with child. But he's a little more than concerned when Asheer's smell begins to change as well. 

 

"Kets," She moans when he pulls his arm away from her mouth. The teeth marks don't phase him the slightest. "Oh, _Kets._ "  
"I'm here," He breathes. They're both shimmering with sweat. And his hooks are still settled firmly into her. "I'm here, Shise."  
His mouth meets hers as she catches her breath.  
Her body twitches when he accidentally disturbs her clit.  
Eventually, his hooks recede back into their slits and he's able to slip out of her without tearing her open.  
He lies his head against her breast and breathes in their mingling scents.  
When she grasps his hand and runs it over her stomach, he's surprised. His heart, already thundering in his ears, skips a beat when their child kicks against his hand.  
"You're alright," He says. He can hear how soft his voice is and it's strange. He's not the type - He knows he isn't - for all this "Daddy" stuff.  
The baby kicks again. Shiseken and Chiikets share a fond look and he kisses her, runs kisses over her bare throat.  
He can feel her chuckle against his lips, vibrating through the thin skin of her throat. "I'm too sensitive for another round."  
He lets out a breath against her neck. "Hooking does that to you, does it?"  
She runs her hands up and down his strong back, pressing as hard as her hands will allow. "I'm sorry to say."  
"Mm," Is his reply. The baby kicks against his hand again.

 

Kajmir and the Subordinate Males are standing in a line, looking up at the cabin.  
"What?" Asks Chiikets as he approaches them.  
"There's a tree limb," Says Mokko. "On the roof."  
"We could send Sasayo up," Says Kajmir. "He's got no fear."  
Chiikets shakes his head. "He won't have the strength."  
Sasayo nods. "It's bigger than me."  
"Everything is bigger than you," Says Chante.  
Liv, Honjin's lover, frowns. "I don't have the balance."  
"I get so scared I freeze," Says Mokko.  
Chiikets takes his time mulling it over. "Okay. Chante, Kajmir. I need you two to push it. I'll pull."  
Sasayo grabs his sleeve. "You could fall!"  
He gently shakes the younger Male off. "Then if I die, Kajmir is in charge."  
The three of them are slow to climb the tree that overhangs their home. Chante and Kajmir take their positions, don't move until Chiikets is in his.  
"Aren't you scared of heights?" Whispers Chante.  
Chiikets looks up, taking hold of the more sturdy branches. "Terrified, actually."  
Kajmir frowns. "We could have called Sasayo up."  
Chiikets snorts. "The branch would be moving him."  
Kajmir laughs at that.  
It takes the three of them to move it. Chiikets almost loses his balance twice.  
When they finally get it down, Chiikets is the first to meet the ground. Chante is second, Kajmir is last.

 

Weeks go by and Kajmir has noticed the tense set of his friend's shoulders.  
Coming home from a hunt, they trail behind.  
Their silence is pretty regular. Kajmir has learned he's welcome to fill it on a good day but he's still thinking of the best way to approach him.  
"Kajmir?"  
He turns hazel eyes to his friend, Chiikets would know he's listening even if he chose not to acknowledge the man. But that is disrespectful and Kajmir has learned that if he or Shiseken are disrespectful, everyone will try to do it, too.  
Chiikets had a hard year keeping everyone in their place after that had happened. Chiikets is still trying his damnedest to let that go.  
Because he loves Kajmir, the shorter man knows, but it's his nature to return an eye for an eye. And in this world, it's necessary.  
"Your genetics are terri-" He clacks his teeth shut before he can finish, blue eyes slide this way and that as he looks for a less harmful word.  
"Yes, my genetics are bad. But I'm still healthy. Still strong enough to stay your Second." He lets there be a pause. Wants there to be an importance to his next words. "If that's what you want?"  
Chiikets gives him a startled look. And startling some one like him is, even for Kajmir, probably a bad idea. "No. No, that isn't where I'm going with this." Kajmir raises his eyebrows. "Why do women flock to you?"  
He clears his throat so he doesn't sound like he's choking on his own spit. Yeah. He's choking just a little.  
"Are you alright?"  
"Yes, yes. My friend," Says Kajmir. "I merely don't understand." He knows Chiikets isn't insulting him. It's almost like awe, the way he asked. "Women flock to you, too."  
Chiikets gives a brief look around to see if anyone's listening. "That may be. But they are only interested in, well," Chiikets gestures to his own body. "This. They've got no real interest in me as a being."  
Ah, Kajmir gets it now, _What do you have that I don't?_ Is really what he's asking. And it's true. It's hard for even Kajmir to, at times, see past the narrow eyes, intimidating height, and muscular frame of his friend.  
Kajmir isn't fat, but he tries to keep himself lean. It's a real struggle.  
Especially when Denii makes pie.  
Before Kajmir can focus on salivating over the very idea of Denii's pastries, he lightly says. "Charm. Something you're certainly wanting for, my friend."  
Kajmir is the only person who can really get away with bone deep honesty with Chiikets. Even Shiseken is turned away sometimes.  
It's all about the approach, Kajmir has learned.  
"Charm?" Asks Chiikets.  
Kajmir shrugs. "You could smile a little more."  
It's a rare thing. And sometimes, Chiikets' smile is more terrifying than his scowl. "But I don't really think you need it. You have Shiseken."  
"That I do," He says. His tone implies something has, yet again, gone awry between them.  
"Well," Says Kajmir, "there is that, I guess."  
"There is that," Chiikets agrees. He obviously doesn't know how to appease his woman this time. Kajmir will make no suggestions.

 

Chiikets' only son to make it through the Winter, Chikotsu - Ko for short, is sharp as a needle, all observant eyes and constant thought.  
Kajmir's own son, Sanyo, is as sweet as pie. Wide-eyed innocence and mispronounced words.  
Everything is good.  
Chiikets is settled on one of the stools around the fire pit, a table adjacent. He tries to sit still while Shiseken works on what the Humans call a "bullet wound." It had been a terrifying thing. Kajmir and Kiren had nearly lost him.  
Rozolyn had been coolly watching the man bleed out. She honestly couldn't have cared less about him, Kajmir knows.  
And he would have killed her if she hadn't pulled the one trick up her sleeve.  
She knew where Shura was.  
And it meant nothing to most. She isn't anything more than Kenjin's estranged wife.  
But Kajmir needs her for something.  
It might even be a game changer, might keep them at the top of the food chain.  
Then again, Lillith is probably a better option. But she's more likely to drink his blood than save it.  
Chikotsu sits nearby, watching his mother's skilled hands.  
Chiikets is feverish, holding to his duties as best he can. Which is still more than Kajmir can do when he's sick.

 

It's happened.  
The one thing Kajmir had prayed they could avoid is happening.  
Liv is getting restless with Honjin so close to giving birth.  
The raven-haired man isn't playing when he swings his hatchet at Chiikets. And without his knives, he's at a disadvantage. But he's already in trouble considering his shoulder is healing but not healed.  
And Kajmir isn't allowed to do anything.  
If Liv were a random Male out to take over, they could attack, chase him out.  
But sireing a child, means he has a place here. It means this is strictly between himself and Chiikets.  
And Kajmir hates Honjin just a little for picking a Male that would never have been happy as a subordinate.  
If Liv wins, both Males and cubs are in danger.  
Chiikets grabs the handle of the hatchet as it comes down, uses his weight and strength to try to wrench it from the other man's grip.  
He's taller so he has better leverage.  
Liv bares his teeth and Chiikets does the same. He shoves against the taller man, trying his damnedest to knock their leader off balance.  
When they appear to reach a stalemate, Chiikets' left fist sends Liv staggering back. The red-haired man punches him again, but Liv grabs his wrist, turns, and flips Chiikets over his shoulder.  
Kajmir is sure that nobody can bear to breathe at this moment.  
Chiikets is on his back, likely stunned.  
Chikotsu shifts anxiously beside his mother. If his father loses, he's definitely dead.  
Chiikets rolls to his knees, topples backwards when Liv's hatchet comes down.  
Liv doesn't want to just be at the top.  
He really intends to kill Chiikets.  
The bigger man swipes Liv's feet out from under him and the dark haired man falls forward, blade positioned to split Chiikets' head open.  
Time seems to slow for a moment and Kajmir lunges forwards but Mokko and Chante take hold of him. He can tell they want to do something just as much as he does.  
Chiikets barely avoids the blade and there's almost a collective sigh amongst the group.  
They grapple, Liv atop Chiikets for several moments before the bigger man flips their positions, knocks the hatchet from the man's grip and lays into Liv with his fists until the other man surrenders.  
Chiikets, panting from exertion and adrenaline, stands and kicks the hatchet a few feet away. His son comes running to him and Chiikets eases to one knee. The boy wraps his arms tight around his father's neck and Kajmir is utterly relieved. He sits down in the dirt and puts his head in his hands and sends up thanks to every god he remembers the name of.  
" **Kets!** " Cries Shiseken.  
Kajmir looks up and tries not to cry out, too.  
Chiikets shoves the boy away and turns too late.  
It's too late.  
The hatchet buries itself in the man's shoulder, the same shoulder with the bullet wound. Kajmir thinks that if he hadn't been injured in the first place, hadn't been weakened, none of this would have happened. Liv wouldn't have taken his chances. Chiikets would have been able to end it a lot sooner.  
There's the crunching of bone and blood spatters onto Chiikets and Liv and the boy hidden in his father's shadow.  
Chiikets' eyes are shut as he grips the handle, right under the blade.  
When he opens them, his left hand collides with the accosting Male's face.  
Liv tries to flip him again but he digs his heel in and uses the top of his other foot to pull the dark haired man' stance off balance.  
As soon as Liv is pulling away, trying to get distance, Chiikets is, with gritted teeth, pulling the blade out of his shoulder. There's a cracking sound that makes Kajmir's stomach turn.  
Chiikets seems a little faint but the look on his face tells the Second that it's not over til somebody is dead.  
Liv goes in for a strike, Chiikets swipes the hatchet through the air at him and he dances back. But their leader, is angry and tired, he isn't going to play anymore games.  
Liv is utterly surprised when Chiikets darts in with more speed than he's used in awhile. The hatchet in his left hand instead of his right makes his swipes a little clumsy. Less exact.  
Liv grunts when the blade comes into contact with him, gasps when it does a second time and Chiikets pushes him to his knees before delivering a blow the soaks him in Liv's blood.  
And Liv drops to the dirt, eyes staring, unseeing, at the clouds that have been giving them shade on and off throughout the day.  
Chiikets drops the hatchet, collapses to his knees and his Clan gathers around him. Honjin cries over Liv.  
And Chiikets expects that. Many of them loved Liv. Even the red haired man himself, liked Liv.  
There are hands carding through his hair. Others touch his face, worry over his destroyed shoulder.  
They're talking to him but he doesn't have the energy to put the jumble of voices into words.  
He looks over and his son is watching him. He musters a smile and the boy looks conflicted. Like he wants to come a little closer but he's scared to. And it feels like a blow to his gut to remember that was the same way Shen would look at him after he won a skirmish.  
Chiikets holds out his hand to the skittish boy.  
_His_ boy.  
And Ko creeps forward enough for Chiikets to wrap his good arm around him, to hold him close. His son is wearing his blood anyway, what's a little more?  
"I love you," He whispers into the mop of red hair.  
"I love you, too," The boy whispers back, almost shyly, into what's left of his shirt.  
Chiikets becomes left handed after that, waiting for his body to heal.  
It's a big effort to keep it from getting infected.  
When Honjin gives birth to a little girl, Chiikets can take no part of it. His hands aren't steady anymore.  
There are plenty of Females to help, though. Chante has also stayed close.  
Aside, from that, most Females are able to give birth by themselves.  
Saimii is a curious child. All smiles and playfulness.  
Her eyes are the same color as Liv's, so light a green that they almost look yellow.

 

It's weeks later that Sasayo comes to him. "I noticed you're taking more care of Shiseken than she is of you. Is that fair?"  
Chiikets looks up from the scroll he's practicing his writing on. It's practically illegible because his left hand has never been used for delicate work. Sasayo is asking a genuine question. He doesn't want trouble between his Leader and the Chosen.  
He wants Chiikets to heal.  
He unfastens his wrappings, knowing full well he'll need his wife's help to refasten them later. And she'll be angry and think him irresponsible. His shoulder screams, hot piercing pain twists itself into every piece it can on his right side. His neck, shoulder, back and clavical make him wish he'd let it be, but he pushes through it, sets his wrist on the table.  
Sasayo looks pale but he ignores it. He ignores the sweat beading at his brow, too, as he clears his throat. "See that?" He gestures with his chin to the dark purple fabric that had been hidden in attempts to keep his shoulder from being further aggravated.  
"Your Jiira?" Sasayo is confused. "What of it?"  
"It's proof that I promised to take care of my child's mother."  
Sasayo opens his mouth to speak but Chiikets starts in again. "That doesn't mean I only care about her when the sun is shining and the food is plenty and we're on top of the world."  
Sasayo looks intently at the Jiira.  
"That means right here, right now. Even if the only thing I'm able to do is get her tea in the morning."  
"But what's her promise to you?"  
Chiikets has never really thought about that. He should but he always feels selfish when he tries. "To bear and raise my young. And to help me get up when I fall."  
"That's not a lot," Says Sasayo.  
"But look at what she does without a promise. She keeps my house in order, teaches the young women how to do the things they ought. She's busy even though she doesn't have to be."  
Sasayo's expression becomes thoughtful at that.  
"Remember, this," Says Chiikets. "Because I won't be around for much longer." His eyes turn to the wound in his shoulder. Pretty soon, other Clans are going to notice.  
And they're going to try to pick him off. Sasayo can feel his sinuses burn. "Stop that," Says Chiikets, voice reprimanding. "You don't cry until two weeks after I'm gone. Do you understand?"  
His eyes meet Chiikets' and there's something haunting about all of this. "I understand, Father. Why two weeks?"  
"That's enough time for everything to settle down. For my body to be dealt with and Kajmir to take his place."  
He and Kajmir have been discussing who will be Kajmir's Second.  
Kajmir would rather have Sasayo than Chante, a womanizer, or Mokko. But Kajmir refuses to talk about why he doesn't want Mokko.  
An outsider would be bad news. Chiikets idly wonders if they should make Kiren the Second. "I need you to commit this to memory, Sasayo."  
The young Male looks at him again. "Your woman and your children should always come before you. Before any and everything else. Before your first cup of tea in the morning and before you lie down at night."  
Sasayo nods.  
"If Kajiim needs you, don't you _ever_ hesitate to be there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr! And hopefully with some art for anyone who cares.  
> ttiw-art-and-misc.tumblr.com
> 
> So don't be shy!
> 
> -War


	42. The Choices We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to hell for Kieve.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex and angst. The usual, right?

His world bottoms out, screeches to a horrific halt as he meets Enko's eye. "It was you. You killed Kuden."  
Enko says nothing.

He knows he should be quieter, but he's forced to sacrifice stealth for speed.  
There's howling. They're looking for him now. His bare feet ache from all the twigs and rocks he's stupidly stepped on. He'd be freezing if he weren't high with adrenaline.  
He's almost out of her territory. Almost free.  
Something thin and silvery pulls taut and his foot catches.  
"Going somewhere?" She asks, standing over him, looking down.  
The trip wire winds around his ankle. His face hurts from where it hit the dirt.  
"Let me go!" He screams as she drags him back to her temple by the trip wire. "Let me go, you fucking bitch!"-  
When he sits up gasping, he isn't really sure why he's so terrified. Regardless that he knows sleeping at this moment is a bad thing.  
It's a nightmare that does have a happy ending.  
He knows because it was Renjin that dragged him through the woods, kicking and screaming - literally.  
His first night at the temple, he made a run for it.  
Renjin had been pissed but Sorajin had gotten him out of being beaten within an inch of his life.  
He's pretty surprised that memory has resurfaced.  
Sort of bothered by it, actually.  
And maybe it's because he's going to see them. It's been two years and he's tired. He needs to remind himself why he's doing this.

Because he's just killed two people and he doesn't want to face it today.

His hands are much dirtier than they ever were with Sorajin. It was always like the groups were playing a big game. The people they fought rarely died - Because groups always retreated before they lost their major players.  
But things are different out here. Out in this world, everything is for keeps and there aren't any do-overs.  
Kieve has had to learn this the hard way.  
He's a lot harder than he was when he left them at twenty.  
He showers first, painstakingly washes his rings after. Some of them have gore dried to the bands and he knows Sorajin will ask him about it if he sees it.  
And maybe Sorajin will have been hardened, too.  
This thought makes him anxious. Because he still loves the dark haired man and the idea that he has been through the dark just as much as Kieve is unsettling.  
Inan knows he's doing something he ought not to be, but thinks he's already left so he'll probably be confronted when he returns.  
"Sorry," He says as he begins out of the washroom. He receives silence. Which he expects. He doesn't really think the orange-haired man hanging from the beams of the ceiling and the man lying on the tile floor, blood spattered on the clean, monotonous white, would have much to say anyway. Even if they were still alive.

 

"We've received word that Kieve has been associated with a particularly active group of Tarshish."  
Haunku and Anju have done some traveling to meet them half way. They come alone, but Sorajin knows that Haunku could probably kill all of them if he wanted to.  
"Which group?" Asks Sorajin. Part of him is happy for Kieve. That man deserves to be among his own. But some small part is jealous. And selfish. Wants Kieve to itself.  
"The rebels."  
Sorajin's blood runs cold. "No."  
Renjin glances at him and he shakes his head. " _No._ Kieve isn't like that. He would **never** -"  
"When was the last time you saw him?" Asks Anju.  
Sorajin frowns. "Two years ago."  
"People change, Sorajin," Says Haunku. "I think you need to be asking what he's been doing."  
Sorajin frowns. "And if he is?"  
"We kill him," Says Anju. "People have been seeing him right before major Tarshish attacks. We think he's orchestrating them."

 

Sorajin glances at Renjin. "I'll deal with him."  
They walk a little further and Renjin asks, "Can you handle it?"  
"He's mine-" Sorajin has to stop himself, licks his lips. "He _was_ mine. I have to do it."  
Renjin nods, looking just as sorry as Sorajin feels.

 

Sorajin's wife is beautiful. Dusted with freckles and gifted with slightly larger eyes than most. Her hair is bright, flaming red, but kept covered.  
She looks a good deal like her mother-in-law. One of the main differences would be her face and features in general. They're softer, rounder and have less of a stone-cold-murderer feel.  
Sorajin loves her.  
A lot.  
Kieve knows by the tenderness with which he looks at her. The subtle touches of his hand and his thigh against hers.  
Kieve knows that look. But has only earned rare glimpses of it.  
They're trying to have a baby. The Clan is getting restless. And even though it's only been two years, people are worried something will happen to their Heir and his Wife.  
She is kind to Kieve when he expects scathing remarks. Expects her to despise him. She's merely curious about who he is.  
There's dinner and laughing and the nine-year-old twins talking him nearly to death.  
Emma wants to know everything. From Kieve's training to what he does in his free time. Youten just wants to know how much ass he's kicked while he's been away.  
Emma's training is, unsurprisingly, different than Youten's. Even Sorajin's. Women in this Clan are a higher rank than men, who are almost second class at this point.  
But Sorajin and Ruuka want to work together to change that.  
They want to be equal.  
But, they also want a child. And that doesn't appear to be happening any time soon.  
Renjin and Sanchu have missed him. They've organized a banquet for his return, made sure that everything he likes is at hand.  
Takka has been courting a man. (Chances of him coming to his senses and making a run for it are pretty high. So Kieve doesn't worry about it.)  
At some point, everyone moves to the sitting room, talking and laughing and smiling and Kieve, for a moment or two, forgets he ever left.  
Ruuka likes him, sits between himself and Sorajin, but it doesn't bother him.  
He should feel jealous, right?  
Isn't that what all once-lovers feel when they aren't together anymore?  
He should hate her. But he really thinks she'll make Sorajin happy. That she _makes_ him happy.  
It would be absolutely awful for Kieve to do anything to ruin that.  
Soon, the twins are sent to bed. The adults tell all sort of stories.  
"Two weeks ago," Says Renjin. "That little blonde-"  
"Sech," Says Sorajin and a thin face with foxy features comes to mind. He remembers Sech smelling like pine and blood.  
"That one," Says Renjin. "He had the nerve to try to steal Takka's under garments."  
"I don't know what the point was," Takka says. "Renjin's would have been more apt."  
Kieve is sort of surprised, too. "Did he say why?"  
"He gave me that coming-of-age molk."  
"Well, Your kind typically do like older women." Women over thirty-three are prized. If they live to be that age, it's a sign that they're prime mate material. Someone worthy of child bearing. Young, virile men oft seek them out.  
Takka has turned down quite a few suitors. She hates young men, calls them cubs to their faces.  
She retires to her quarters after a few more stories.  
Renjin has an early morning so she and Sanchu call it a night shortly after.  
Ruuka stays and talks, Kieve notices she only ever talks about Tishta, who was sent with her as a sort of dowry. She doesn't talk about any of her other family members, which bothers Kieve. She and Sorajin share glances Kieve doesn't mind not being privy to while she talks about everything they've accomplished.  
Kieve is happy, really. He is. But their leaps and bounds make him feel like he's taking slow, wobbly baby steps towards his goal.  
Ruuka, after a while and a soft kiss to Sorajin's lips, bids them goodnight and slips off to their quarters.  
Kieve is amused when he watches Sorajin watch Ruuka.  
There's longing and love in the Human's eyes.  
"You're really into her."  
Sorajin turns sheepish. "Ah. Sorry. Is it," He pauses, licks his lips, "Do we make you uncomfortable?"  
Kieve shakes his head. "I'm happy for you."  
Sorajin's look turns sly. "Anybody you're courting? You've been so vague about what's been going on."  
Kieve bites his lip. Should he talk about her? "They're not really ready to be open about our relationship." If Inan knew, he'd probably be angry.  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. Sorry."  
"Well," Says Sorajin. "As long as you're happy with them." His smile is so genuine that Kieve realizes, all over again, he's missed it. Sorajin scoots closer so their thighs touch and Kieve feels more heat than he's used to radiating off the man.  
Gods, has he become a man.  
His features have become firm, lean lines and his eyes have more depth to them.  
He wonders how long Sorajin has been a man. Not just a Sparrow pretending to be an adult in walk and talk, but a real, mature, attractive male.  
Did it happen under Kieve's nose without his notice?  
Did it happen in his absence?  
And was it because of his absence?  
Was Kieve holding back Sorajin's overall growth?  
"I hear you've acquainted yourself with other Tarshish," Says Sorajin. His voice is deeper, too. A touch melodious. But maybe it's all in Kieve's head.  
Kieve nods at him. "It's different than I expected it to be."  
"Like?" Prompts Sorajin.  
Kieve is quiet for a long time. "Like, they drink. They treat each other more differently than I've ever seen anyone do."  
Sorajin soaks in this information. Then he looks at Kieve. "Are their mentalities different?"  
Sorajin is fishing, Kieve realizes. He's genuinely interested, but there's something dangerous in his eyes. Cunning in his hands - If that makes any sense. Maybe Kieve is so anxious about being caught that he's cracked and doesn't know it.  
"Yes," Kieve says slowly. "But not too much."  
When Sorajin tries to prompt him again, he just smiles. He hates that he's playing this kind of game with his ex-lover.  
"You know," Says Sorajin softly after a while, leaning so close his breath brushes against Kieve's neck. "People are talking about you."  
Kieve turns carefully to look him in the eye. "Yeah?"  
He jumps when Sorajin's hand slides over his thigh.  
Alarm bells are going off, but Kieve has no idea what's causing it.  
"I'm so proud of you," Whispers Sorajin. Kieve catches a whiff of Sorajin's favorite tea on his breath. Sorajin's scent is sort of smokey, not unpleasant. But different.  
There's a touch of the oils he sometimes uses when his skin is dry and has started cracking. This particular smell isn't totally pleasant, has a mildly bitter tint.  
Kieve wonders how he smells to the man beside him. Some part of him, the part that screams and cries and hates every part of itself every time he makes a kill, tells him he probably smells like sweat and tears and blood.  
"That means a lot to me, Jin." Because it does. If his ex-lover is proud of him, this means he can be proud of himself. But there's the stuff Sorajin doesn't know. That, should it ever come to light, is what will decide how Sorajin will really feel about him.  
He's surprised when Sorajin's mouth finds his, lets his friend's tongue explore his mouth.  
Sorajin's hand snakes up his shirt and he knows something is wrong. That he shouldn't let Sorajin this close because this is so.... Forward for the other man.  
He lets Sorajin push him down onto the soft cushions, closes his eyes as the dark haired man slides his gloved hands over Kieve's chest and stomach.  
"Your hair is longer."  
"Yeah," Says Kieve. He's debating on how long he should let it get. Renjin had insisted he keep it short, the Toko family ever in charge of what he wore, to what he ate, to how long he showered.  
Being in control is a weird thing.  
He loves it.  
"Kieve?"  
He realizes he's shirtless. Sorajin's shirtless. And they're both gloveless.  
He meets Sorajin's eyes. "Hm?"  
"People have been saying other stuff too. I need to know where you've been. What you've been doing."  
Kieve can't bring himself to get angry. Even though he should be. Even though Sorajin's trying to sexually interrogate him. "I can't let you get involved."  
Sorajin kisses him and Kieve lets him, knowing full well that he shouldn't.  
Kieve pushes Sorajin off him and stands, offering his hand to the other man who looks at him, perplexed.  
Eventually, he takes Kieve's hand, stands. The older man unhooks Sorajin's pants and the dark haired man eases out of them, undergarments going with. Kieve removes his without a care. Sorajin is planning on seduction.  
_This Tarshish is gonna let him_ , Thinks Kieve.  
He hisses when Sorajin's hand wraps around his erection, the firm stroke he receives has him shivering.  
Mouths slide, tongues twist. And Kieve wonders if Ruuka knows about her Husband's proclivities.  
He's dripping when Sorajin's mouth takes him in with ease. There's no scrape of teeth, no awkward attempts to be had, only wet heat.  
It feels good and Kieve's breath hitches, fingers tangling in his hair. His hips rock slowly into Sorajin's mouth. Sorajin moans around his length, clutching at Kieve's hips. But he's not trying to make the Half Breed stop, in fact, Sorajin eases him deeper and swallows.  
Kieve can already feel his dark purple hair sticking to his face as he tries to keep from fucking his ex-lover's face with wild abandon.  
When matter starts winning over mind and Kieve's hips are trying to take everything Sorajin's willing to give, he pulls off, the older man is panting and the younger man is a sight to behold. Pupils blown wide, lips glistening. He stands and Kieve's not sure he'll want to leave this place again.  
Sorajin pushes him down onto the floor, onto his back.  
And he watches Sorajin go through his pants pockets, definitely wonders if his wife knows when Sorajin draws a vial from one of the folds.  
When he comes back, Kieve focuses on staying pliable. He isn't sure how Sorajin will want to do this, will want to fill him.  
He relaxes, closes his eyes and day dreams while Sorajin plays with the lubricant.  
"Ack!" Sorajin's fingers are cold when they wrap around his dick, the upward stroke more than makes up for it. "Okay. _Okay_ ," Says Kieve when he feels his desire blazing like an all consuming fire. Like Sorajin will consume him with his gift.

And watches with wide eyes as Sorajin takes him in.

Inky black sticks to Sorajin's face and shoulders. His face is flushed and Kieve never wants to forget this moment.  
Sorajin's dark eyes meet his and he's aware of just how tight the other man's body is. "S-Sorajin?"  
He eases up, lips parted, eyebrows drawn downwards slightly and when he slides back down Kieve grips his hips. "Ungh. Sorajin. We can't do this."  
Sorajin's eyes, full of desire and hunger narrow. "I want to take care of you. You've always taken care of me."  
Kieve smiles, runs his knuckles over Sorajin's cheek, and says with a gentleness that surprises Kieve himself, "And I always will."  
It takes a few times before Sorajin finds an angle he likes, back arching and head back.

 _He's so perfect_ , Thinks Kieve. His lover sets a brutal pace that has the older man hissing and roughly meeting his thrusts.  
Sorajin's moans grow more wonton, but not louder. Kieve thinks he could get off to just listening to him.  
He's stroking the younger man, mindful of the noises he makes.  
The coil in his stomach is getting tight and his muscles just as much. The alarms are still going off but Kieve is stubbornly ignoring them. Chances are, it's just Ruuka vouyering.  
Sorajin's hips are ruthlessly seeking his hand now, fucking himself on Kieve with vigor and it's all the older man can do to stay quiet.  
The edge is close. He can feel himself toppling over. His hair stands on end and his eyes open to see the terrifying glint of steel.  
His hands react on instinct and the blade sinks into a spot a few inches from his head. His long fingers wrapped around the younger man's strong wrist.  
He stares into Sorajin's shimmering eyes for a long moment.  
"You're one of them." Sorajin's voice is tight.  
Kieve's hand shoots up but Sorajin rolls off of him. The knife makes the floor boards creak when he pulls it out of them.  
"One of _who_?" Kieve practically spits.  
"The rebels. People report you being there when they're about to strike."  
Kieve knows he's been set up.  
Shusho says there's nothing they can do without it looking suspicious.  
"It isn't what you think it is."  
"Kieve. Do you really think that I'm blind?"  
_No, I think you're being stupid_ , Thinks Kieve as he clenches his jaw.  
Sorajin's started putting off steam at Kieve's lack of response. He's going to dehydrate himself, burn Kieve if they come into contact.  
The younger man darts forward and Kieve twists to avoid the blade, launches himself towards the rings that Sorajin had removed during their make out.  
Gods, he should have known better.  
He doesn't have time to put them on, rolls out of the way of Sorajin's attack but the blade draws a thin line on his upper arm. "Sorajin, telling you anything could get you killed." He scoots back, a line is drawn across his cheek and he can feel blood coating his skin, already making it itch.  
"I doubt I'll be in as much trouble as you are right now, **Kevierkets.** "  
The blow hurts so much more than the physical one Sorajin delivers to his face, makes it feel like a tap. Leaves him gasping in a way a weapon never could.  
And some part of him knew. Knew the whole time that this was coming. He wants to let Sorajin kill him but he has to survive this encounter. His work isn't finished. Shusho still needs him.  
The blade comes down again.  
"Am I just the Tarshish you rescued and pity until you're bored and need something to tear the wings off of?" It pauses over his chest. And when he looks up, Sorajin's face is streaked with tears.  
"You don't have any right to ask me that."  
"You have every right to trust me."  
"Kieve-"  
" _Kevierkets._ "  
"No, I-"  
Kieve shoves him away. "You can't take that back." He slips his rings on, thinks about throwing them at Renjin until she bleeds. Because she has to know this was going on.  
Do they even still think of him as family?  
Did they **ever**?  
"Kets..." That's a safe nickname to give. Kets: _Men._ "I tried. But if you don't tell me, I have to assume the worst."  
"Fuck you."  
Sorajin recoils as though he's the one that's been burned. "Kieve-"  
" _Kevierkets._ "  
"Would you stop that? I'm sorry."  
"I'm not," He fastens his pants, pulls on his gloves. "If I wanted to be a rebel, I'd have killed you." At Sorajin's look, Kieve gives in to that part of him that wants to get back at his ex-lover. "They asked me about it when I was a Yona. Gave me the guidelines." _And I didn't trust you enough to say anything_ , His tone says.  
Sorajin's lips thin. "No."  
"And you know what? Someone will eventually come to kill you. It won't be me." _You'll never see me again_ , Hangs in the air. "Maybe I should have joined the cause. They're winning anyways."  
Sorajin is watching him, trying to sort out the molk from the truth.  
Kieve turns to him. "Sometimes, I wish _you_ were mute instead of Sanchu."  
He doesn't speak, eyes downcast. And Kieve wants to hurt him. Wants to makes him cry and scream and bleed.  
His rings pulse and he notices the younger man watching him again. There's a sliver of fear there. Less sorrow and angst.  
For a split second, Kieve wonders what Sorajin's blood would feel like on his skin.  
He stops in the doorway, looks over his shoulder at Sorajin.

"I can't believe I was willing to die for you."

He doesn't have nightmares of his family being murdered by faceless Tarshish after that.  
No, the person murdering them is himself.  
He should be bothered but he only feels a gaping hole, taking every last sensation. Every moment of pleasure from him.

He lets it.

He tries to forget them. Tries not to let Sorajin's words hurt him. Tries to forgive Renjin and Sanchu and Takka for posting guards that know his face.

And he can't.

 

"Ara?" He asks, stepping into her quarters. "Hey. I just came by to drop something off."  
There's no response so he guesses she's away, sets the bouquet onto her desk and knocks over a folder.  
Swearing to himself, he picks up the papers, pauses when he notices a drawing of Sorajin. He feels like a child when the small pieces are scattered over the floor and he's panting with exertion.  
There's a drawing of him, too.  
He's much slower, more deliberate as he tears the image of himself at eighteen in half. Then half again.  
He's nothing like he used to be.  
The folder reads _Illia_ on the front, he notices.  
He's curious as to why he'd be in a woman's folder.  
The leader of the Exiles is there, a red line slashed in the middle of his name.  
Which makes no sense. He's still alive and trying to take over Rozolyn's Territory.  
Kieve's name is underlined in red, though.  
Sorajin's is circled.  
"Hey, Kieve. I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in," Ara has obviously been in the bathroom, her hair is dripping.  
"No big," He says, leans against the table and pretends he never saw the folder he left on it. She turns to go to her bedroom and he watches her. "Oh, and Illia?" Her entire body goes rigid and Kieve feels his heart give a wrench so painful, he thinks he might be dying.  
She turns slowly to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you right. What did you call me?"  
"Illia. Isn't that your name?"  
Honey brown eyes are fearful, darting this way and that. "Kieve. I-"  
" _Isn't it?_ "  
Ara - **Illia** stares at him, whispers a barely audible, "I'm sorry, Kieve."  
Kieve promises to never love anyone again.

 

"You're working for Shusho," Says Kieve one morning, looking at her over his cup of tea.  
Maque is silent for a few minutes. "So are you."  
"So, we're on the same side then."  
"Yes," She says. "But I would think twice about being friendly with me."  
"What? Can't stand me?"  
"No," She draws out the word. "I merely know more than you think I do."  
At his look, she breathes in a slow, deep breath. "I know you cry when you're blindfolded."  
Something flickers behind his eyes and his rings come to life then lose their glow, first the rings on his middle and little fingers, then his index and ring fingers. "That was you."  
Maque isn't one hundred percent sure they're on the same page, but it means the same to her. "You needed it."  
"Yinkya! You sucked me off! Isn't that rape?"  
"It isn't if you consented to it."  
There's a hum of energy around them. The pendant on Maque's collar glows as Kieve's rings pulse.  
"You don't fuck with the heads of your teammates."  
"We don't have affairs with the opposition."  
Kieve scowls and the cup in Maque's hand rattles. "I didn't know she wasn't on our side."  
"Did you think that she was just going doe-eyed through life, unaware that this was happening? Did you honestly believe she wasn't going to watch out for her own? She's _Tarshish!_ "  
His fist on the table makes the glassware clatter. "I'm Tarshish, too, damn it!" His voice has so many emotions twisted into it.  
Maque softens then, just slightly. Her hand reaches out but pauses at his look. "I forget sometimes," She seems to be choosing her words, "how hard it is for you."  
"Is that so?"  
"You're stuck in the middle. You want to belong. But you look for it in all the wrong places."

 

A year later, the walls are closing in and he can't trust anyone and he's scared. Scared out of his fucking mind and he never should have tried to do this on his own.  
"Kieve," Says Shusho. "Calm down."  
Kieve drops his head in his hands and lets himself cry. "It's over. It's _over._ "  
Shusho sits beside him. "You have to look at the bigger picture here."  
"I can't do this. I don't care about the fucking bigger-things-than-us speech."  
Shusho lets him cry. Lets him hurt and says nothing until he's calmer. More rational. "It will all be okay."  
But it's not. Nothing is going to be.  
"Alright," Shusho says. "I have a plan. But you will have to risk your life for it to work."  
Kieve is skeptical.  
But he's also desperate.

 

When he receives news of Kieve's death, it's like a piece of him has died, too.  
The man that gave him the news, handed him two letters.  
One addressed to the family.  
The other, addressed to Sorajin.  
He can't bear to open it.  
The agony of the last things he said to Kieve. The entire night playing in an unstoppable loop for days.  
Everything after awakes the memories of Kieve as his Yona. He can't walk through the halls without flashbacks of them walking through the halls at thirteen and fifteen. At sixteen and eighteen. Finally, at seventeen and twenty.  
Kieve's birthday is six months before his.  
His breath catches. A strangled noise escapes him.

Kieve's birthday _was_ six months before his.


	43. Sugar and Spice and More Sarcasm Than Necessary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a pessimist, Sho is pretty optimistic.

_No_ , Thinks Sho. _No. No. **No.**_  
Ranka, apathetic to the damage, watches him quietly.  
Sho knows he shouldn't act like this in front of Ranka.  
But they're gone. They're all gone.  
Megan is gone.  
"They're just Humans," Says Ranka. "Why are you so upset?"  
He looks up from his spot, on his knees in the dirt. "They aren't ' _just Humans_ ,' Ranka. They're people like we are."  
Ranka gives a brief scan of the wasted village and shrugs. "If you say so."  
He forgets, sometimes, that most Full-Bloods think of Humans as no more than pets or cattle.  
His Mother, may her soul rest forever, certainly did. "You were almost married to a Human."  
"In a Clan that views men as second class."  
And sometimes, Sho thinks the only good thing about Ranka is how tight she is when she lies underneath him.  
She's probably the only virgin among her female siblings.  
"These people meant something to me," Sho says. _Which makes them important to you, too_ , He tries to imply.  
She shrugs, walks past him into the destroyed village.  
There's something hanging onto a wagon door, waving idly in the breeze.  
He'd know that green and pink fabric anywhere. The door falls off its hinges, clatters to the cobblestone, when Sho opens it.  
He feels everything from regret to anger as he, with shaking hands, touches the fabric of Megan's scarf.  
Takes a moment to just breathe in her smell.  
Ranka is looking at him as though he were crazy and he pulls back as if burned when he realizes he's tarnishing Megan's scent with his tears.  
Oh hell.  
He shouldn't be crying about a woman he hasn't even seen for three years.  
But some part of him had wanted to fix things between them.  
He thought he had more time.  
He always thinks he has more time.  
But there's never enough.  
He doesn't even realize he's sitting on the hard, stone road until Ranka is standing over him.  
"Why even bother having a baby if I'm married to you," He hears her mutter under her breath.  
"You could pretend to care."  
"Then I'd be married to a Meat sack sympathizer _and_ I'd be a liar."  
" _Ranka!_ "  
"Okay!" She snaps. "I'm sorry, baby." Her voice goes up in pitch. "We'll buy you a new set of meat sacks to entertain yourself with since _I'm_ obviously unworthy of your attention."  
And for a moment, he thinks about marrying a second woman just to piss Ranka off.  
Until he looks around and notices dead guards. But few dead civilians.  
Oh gods.  
_Please, not Nierka_ , Thinks Sho as he stands. _You can do what you want to me. To Ranka. But not Megan._  
Ranka eyes him like she's privy to the prayer he's just sent up and he almost wonders if he spoke it.  
"You know I was lying, right?"  
He licks his lips. "About?"  
"Getting more Humans. This place is Tarshished." And by that, she means, _trashed, destroyed, unliveable._ "You can't keep your pets here."  
"They aren't pets, Ranka."  
"Well you treat them like it. Bakubakk, you're crying over this worthless little town and these worthless things you call ' _people._ '"  
"Go home."  
At Ranka's offended look, he says, "You're just going to bitch the whole time. Go back to our den and I'll make it worth your while."  
Ranka scowls. "Don't you dare let a Female meat sack bear your young or I swear to Yinkya-"  
"It isn't like that. They don't copulate with us anyway."  
With skepticism ingrained her features, she turns and slips into the tree line.  
He isn't even sure he'll be able to find them.

 

It takes him three days to find Bordeaux. Another two to find Megan.  
Some of the Clan have joined him on his desperate hunt.  
The brothels are destroyed, everyone but the courtesans and slave children are put to death.  
And when he kneels in front of Megan, she smells different. No longer as nubile.  
But heavy with Bordeaux's cub.  
He gives them privacy as she cries into Bordeaux's shirt and he holds her close.  
Finally, Sho gathers his courage and holds out the scarf he's been using to track them. "I would like you to be my retainers."  
He can almost promise protection if they are in his shadow.  
But Megan shakes her head, slowly takes the scarf from his hand and settles it around her neck. "While we're grateful, we have to turn it down, Sho."  
"Why?" He asks as gently as he can.  
Her hands are soft when they alight over his. "Because we can't. It's just not going to work out."  
He manages a nod. And she smiles softly. "See you later, Sho."  
The entire group of Humans begin their trek to wherever it is they intend to go.  
Sho feels his heart beating in his chest and is surprised it isn't in Megan's hand anymore.  
He's, strangely, his own person now.  
And that's fine with him.  
Ranka comes to stand beside him. "Idiot. I knew all of this was about a female meat sack."  
"I hate you."  
"The feeling is mutual," She says. But there's no heat to it. "I'm pregnant."  
"I know," He says. He can scent it now that his sinuses aren't clogged with death and Megan.  
"Then act like it," She says after a long, long silence.  
When he turns to her, he thinks maybe he should kiss her. But he isn't sure if she is happy, apathetic, or angry about his seed being sown.  
She appears not to care either way.  
"Are you still mad that Ruuka got pregnant before you?"  
"She's worthless and yet..."  
That would be a yes. "Don't think too much about it. It'll hurt the baby."  
Ranka shrugs her shoulders. "I suppose so."

 

"I don't want this cub anymore," Says Ranka between contractions.  
"Yeah? Get over it," Says Sho.  
She glares, clenches his hand as she tries desperately to find a more comfortable position.  
Sho knows she won't.  
When their little girl finally makes an appearance, she practically sags in relief, ready for it to be over.  
Until her body seizes up again. "No. No. **No** -Yinkya! Oh fuck!"  
The boy Ranka grudgingly births is named Wen, _Unforeseen._  
Their daughter is called Ro, _Sly._

Tand and his family visit throughout the next week while Ranka recovers. Sho doesn't particularly trust Tand, so letting his Father-in-law get a lay of his territory isn't really what Sho thinks is a good idea. Stopping them from coming would be bad for relations.  
And, until Ranka is strong again, he needs them.  
Her elder brother already has three cubs. Ruuka has only one.  
Not that it matters to them, really. But it reflects badly on Ranka, who married her own kind and still couldn't produce cubs.  
And Ranka has tried killing her sister over it, but Renjin has always been formidable. Coming to Ruuka's defense during her pregnancy.  
Fortunately, all of them know Renjin's power won't last forever.  
Sho is ready for that. He and Tand both are ready for the Toko Clan to fall, Sanchu having killed his mother, Renjin having told Tand to go to hell when he found out who his daughter was marrying and went to retrieve her.  
Tand hates being disrespected.  
And this would be the second time Renjin has done it.  
"You're thinking, again." Ranka sounds tired. Feeding their offspring is exhausting. They alternate getting up to get the cubs in the night. Sho can't wait until they're old enough to fend for themselves.  
"I'm making plans," He says.  
"Plotting if I'm not privy to it."  
He leans over and kisses her on the temple then. She looks at him and tries not to smile. His arm slides around her shoulders and she leans her head into the crook of his neck.

And they just sit.

He likes it, being able to be with her without having to do anything.

He realizes that, in this moment, he doesn't have to over think or plot or worry.  
And with Ranka, albeit snarky, he can face whatever comes their way.


	44. Unrelenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanchu is introduced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've, temporarily, hit writer's block. So this one has had some difficulty getting finished.

"No!" He yells.  
The wagons that once held captive Humans are burning behind him, large wolves with coats the color of blood are closing in around them.  
The women are let be. But he and the other men are going to be put to death.  
"No?" She asks, eye narrowed and lips thinned.  
"This is wrong! You can't save our lives just to kill us!"  
She tilts her head. "All gain stolen is mine to do with as I please."  
His gaze darkens, expression grim. "And just how do you sleep at night?"  
This question, he knows she's never been asked before. Her head tilts the opposite direction. "I sleep the same as everyone else, I suppose."  
He laughs at this. "With blood on your hands for no other reason than perverse desire?"  
Green eyes take him in, he can see curiosity. "Why is it that the only one who is terrified of death is the one that baits it?"  
The man runs a hand through dark, curly hair and says, "Because I refuse to go out like I meant nothing. And if you're going to kill me, you better be prepared to be haunted by me."  
She quirks her lips at this, fingers the blades strapped to her thighs. "Step forward. You're spared."  
"I will not move until the other Humans are done the same kindness."  
They stare at one another for a very, very long time.  
And while she's made every Human male up to this point shrink back, this one holds his chin up, shoulders squared.  
It's been some time since she's had this feeling. "Very well. I will not kill them."  
The man steps out of the group and she beckons him near.  
Once he's sitting in front of her, on the meek, it's fur the color of the red dirt found in some places on the island, she raises her hand.  
The men are slaughtered before him and he can do nothing. "You gave your word!"  
"That _I_ wouldn't kill them."  
He attempts to get at her but is unable to really harm her at this angle. "You bitch!"  
Two groups go in two different directions. He never sees the women again.

When they arrive, he doesn't get off until she allows it.  
He's fuming that she knows he won't run. Even though she gives him ample opportunity. Like she wants him to run. And maybe he should.  
But he won't without a plan.

"What do they call you?" She asks a few days later.  
He doesn't look up from breakfast. "Glade."  
She ponders it for awhile. "What's its meaning?"  
"An open space in a forest."  
She gives him such a strange look, he wonders if what she's eaten has made her sick. "Why would your Clan call you that? It's an awful name."  
"Oh?" Says Glade. "What do they call you?"  
"Renjin. It means spilling blade."  
It's Glade's turn to give her a look. "Why would they call _you_ that?"  
"It doesn't make sense to you?"  
"No. People should give their children names that bless them. Not encourage them to be serial killers."  
Renjin chews her lip a moment. "Our names are blessings. It is hoped that we live up to them. They wanted me to be able to do the things that were needed. They called me Renjin."  
He still doesn't seem to understand.

"I wish to call you Sanchu."  
He quirks a brow at her. "And that means?"  
"Unrelenting."  
Glade laughs at that. "You feel that way about me, huh?"  
Renjin shrugs, draws a strip of red cloth from her satchel. "There is one more thing I want from you."  
"There's _always_ one more thing," He says.  
She hands him a pair of gloves, on the back of them is a red crescent moon over a black background. He thinks he's seen something similar on the back of her neck, on the right side.  
She's slow to take his left wrist, wraps one end over it and the other over her own, the right one, before cutting it in the middle.  
"What's all this about?" He asks.  
"If you wear this, no one will hurt you."  
He gets the feeling there's a little more than that, but she doesn't say anything else.

 

"You're kidding, right?" Takka asks when she sees the Human trailing after her.  
Renjin gives her a look but Takka doesn't relent. "You should be courting a Male. Not a... A masculine Female that will do little more than-"  
Renjin's expression is dark when she settles her hands over the pommel of her knives.  
They're the length of her thighs. He wonders how fast she is with them weighing her down.  
Takka makes an aggravated gesture. One with shoulders rolling and chin tossing upwards slightly. "Fine."

 

Their crest is put over his left pectoral and he fights them at first, eventually learns Renjin isn't playing with him when she holds him down. He only has to look in her eyes once to know it's behave or regret it.  
The women around him snicker and giggle and he thinks that maybe all the legends are true.

 

To test how much pull he has on her, he pauses in his work and looks up at Renjin. "You like me, don't you?"  
She glances back at him, currently looking over a map hung up on the wall. And he can, strangely, see it in her eyes.  
She likes him a lot.  
He shifts his eyes to the side. "Sorry to say, I like skinny women."  
She isn't fat but she is certainly not that into keeping herself lean. Most of the women here are pretty curvy or bulky with muscle.  
Her shoulders tense.  
He knows he's said something hurtful. "Long hair gets in my face."

 

He notices that she keeps her hair back in a bun after that.  
She slims down too. Enough that Glade notices and just enough that she can still push her Clan members around when they talk back to her.  
"You know," He says one morning, knowing he's got her wrapped around his fingers, "if you really liked me, you would let me free."  
He's surprised when her face becomes deadpan. "I have been quite lenient with you already."  
He spends several minutes trying to deduce how he can achieve freedom. Finally, he says, "If you won't prove your affections by uncaging me, then prove it by having sex with me."  
Her lips purse, eyebrows drawing together. "You Humans have such peculiar ways of thinking," She says, voice barely above a whisper.  
He knows she's attracted to him. But she also shies away from physical contact with him.  
Maybe she feels inadequate. Maybe she doesn't like to be touched.

And if that's the case, he's got her in checkmate.

She will want to prove it, want to impress him. Something she's been unable to do.  
If she were to release him, he'd slip away and never be found again.

And she knows this.

She stands, breathing slow and deep as she unfastens her top, it comes away from the high collar that covers her throat.  
The top, connected to the short skirt drops to the wood floor and Sanchu is speechless.  
She refuses to look at him as she draws a long string and her dark panties drop.  
Sanchu knows he's gaping.  
Her bra drops, too.  
Her eyes are closed when she eases the high collar that clings to her throat.  
Her hair is still in a bun, she's still wearing that dark red fabric around her wrist.  
His eyes stay glued to her form as she sits upon the table before him, chin up, still refusing to look at him.  
She's not a siren.  
But she isn't bad to look at either. She tenses when his hand settles onto her knee.  
Some part of him feels intense guilt that he's being so unkind.

The rest of him reasons that if he does her enough damage, she'll let him go.

 

Iiyo is burning holes into the back of his head. When he turns, dark eyes are settled upon him. "You shouldn't ask her for things if you aren't willing to give her anything in return."  
Iiyo was Yomshee's lover. Is Liiya's father. Roxoi has laid claim to him.  
He doesn't complain even though he's nearly three times her age.  
Sanchu finds the whole arrangement disgusting.  
"Isn't it enough that I'm not here of my own free will? I can't love her if she won't give me the space to."  
Iiyo's bites his lips together at one side. "You're manipulating her. Promising love if she does this or that. Why don't you just simply admit that you aren't attracted to her? That you never will be."  
Sanchu actually does find Renjin mildly attractive now that he's able to see her eyes, past her bulk and see the pleasant angles of her body past her weapons. "Because she won't let me go."  
Iiyo sighs.

 

He becomes her new travel companion.  
She's an odd sort of quiet while they trek through her territory. He wonders how she came into it.  
The scenery changes, the trees thin out drastically, the grass grows nearly as high as his chest. Part of him wonders why he's never been through his section. The rest of him is anxious about picking up ticks. "Renjin?"  
She doesn't acknowledge him, so he's shit-out-of-luck for getting his questions answered. The entire field has a strange golden glow and the air feels crisper.  
Renjin unhooks two flasks from her belt and tosses one to him. "Here. You're going to need it after this."  
He pauses to sniff it, realizes it's alcohol and looks up to see Renjin drinking it like water. "Are you _trying_ to get drunk?"  
Renjin still doesn't look at him, rolls her shoulders. "It's definitely on my to-do list."  
A man, garb like that of Renjin's battle gear down to the bare chest with a red fur pelt as a scant vest, wrapping around his shoulders and covering his back, comes striding up from Sanchu's flank. Sanchu nearly leaps from his skin when he appears, having never heard him coming.  
The man snatches Renjin's flask from her hand. "Really, child. Do you still have so little self control?" He's a big, big man and Sanchu is surprised. Iiyo is about the same size but would never dare to speak to Renjin like that. No one does.  
Sanchu is further surprised when he swigs from the stolen flask.  
Her voice sounds mildly flat when she says, "Spirits shouldn't drink."  
"I don't feel the effects. My body-"  
"Or lack of thereof," Says Renjin.  
"-Isn't damaged by it."  
Sanchu is really starting to get weirded out by this conversation.  
A woman strides out of the forest far to their right. She glances back at Sanchu and scowls. "Really, Jinny? A Human?"  
"I agree," Says the man. "When I gave you clear instructions on whom to marry, this wasn't really what I meant."  
"I'm right here," Says Sanchu.  
The woman turns, skin the color of snow, holes for eyes and a folding mouth, and begins a blood-curdling scream before Renjin grabs her elbow. "Anaya. Enough."  
Sanchu is shivering, but not because of the mild chill of the air.  
She turns back to Renjin. "My gods, little sister. I know you can do better."  
"What in the hell do you two want?"  
The man looks mildly hurt. "Renjin."  
She glances at him. "Out with it, Jezreel. I'm already worn down and I really can't handle encounters with you as it is."  
Sanchu thinks the liquor in his hand is a good idea right about now.  
"You need an heir."  
"My heir," Says Anaya.  
Jezreel scowls. "Renjin. I need you to listen to my advice, on this."  
"Wait. Wait. You two." Renjin's arms draw close to her sides, wrists against her hips and elbows back as if wings, palms to the sky. "An heir? What the hell are you restless spirits going on about?"  
The man runs a hand through his hair. "You've mated yourself to a Human. And after what was done to you, your chances of bearing cubs are so, _so_ low, Renjin."  
"Maybe I don't want cubs," Renjin says peevishly.  
Jezreel rolls his shoulders. "Don't get snotty with me, little lady."  
"Mated?" Asks Sanchu. "I haven't met any Humans while I've been in her tribe."  
Both spirits turn to him. "Idiot."  
"Now," Says Anaya. "There's a boy in the North-"  
"The North? I'd have to travel quite a ways-"  
"Shut up!" Snaps the woman.  
And suddenly, both spirits are talking at each other over Renjin's head. It's weird to see two people have any control over Renjin.  
He pops the lid on his canteen and downs it.  
She rubs her temples as their spat reaches fever pitch. " _Enough!_ " She shouts at them.  
They both back away a few steps from her in surprise.  
The woman snarls. "Don't you dare speak to me like that, you little bitch."  
The man shakes himself out. "I'm sorry, Ren. This is really important to me."  
Renjin looks at him, shoulders sloped. "Go on, then."  
"Triska had a daughter." She perks at this. "I couldn't convince her not to..." His voice trails off. "But she's alive. I need you to find her. She's bright, with both of my forms. You can make a good, worthy disciple of her."  
"My boy is better," Says Anaya. "But his life is on a time clock."  
"Okay," Says Renjin. "Where is the girl?"  
Anaya fumes beside her.  
"To the west."  
Renjin folds her arms. "How long does the boy have?"  
Anaya flips her hair. "A week."  
Renjin frowns. "I will only have a few days to find him before his death."  
"Then he takes priority."  
Renjin sighs. "She's got a point."  
The big man sighs. "Please just be sure to see her."  
Renjin promises before turning to look at the woman. "Your fatality is showing."  
She glances down and sighs. Blood is spreading outwards on her shirt. "Well damn."

 

She's pensive when they enter the small town in a territory he knows isn't hers.  
Walking by a tavern, she turns her face to the window but doesn't stop.

There's a group sitting around a table, talking and playing cards.  
One of the men facing the window looks up, shock overtaking his features.  
They continue to the center, a park, and Renjin settles onto the bench. Sanchu stands, watches her. "What are we doing?"  
"Waiting."  
The man from the tavern saunters over and Renjin stands. He's taller than she is, too.  
"Minnow," He says.  
She nods. "Chante."  
Sanchu cocks his head. "Minnow? She doesn't even-"  
They both glance at him and he snaps his mouth shut.  
"I'm looking for someone specific," She tells him. "And I know you are able to be of service."  
Sanchu watches Chante and Renjin stare at each other.  
Finally, Chante rubs the back of his neck. "What can we do for you?"  
"There's a girl named Sven. I know Kiren and Ehao know her." His mouth opens and closes for a moment. "I haven't seen Ehao in forever. Do you know how they know her?"  
Renjin glances to the left, long eyelashes lowered. They stand in silence for what feels like forever to Sanchu. Her eyes flicker back to Chante.  
He tilts his head, raises his shoulders. "I'll ask Kiren,"  
In the time it takes for Sanchu to blink, Renjin's hand is on his chest, sending him backwards. "Move."  
"Who do you think you-"  
A woman with dark hair and caramel skin drops from the rooftop, swiping at Renjin with long, claw-like knives attached to her knuckles by bands wrapped around her palm and wrist.  
Renjin draws the right knife strapped to her thigh and points it upwards, vaguely in the woman's direction. "You're finished."  
The woman glares with enough heat that, if looks could kill, Renjin would be dead five times over. "Don't you dare turn those against me."  
"Don't _make_ me."  
Chante steps between them. "Our wounds are much too fresh right now. We need you to leave. The fastest way home is near the old Tower."  
Renjin doesn't retreat, even Sanchu can tell she's simply leaving. Her stride is slow but timely.  
Sanchu has a hard time keeping up with her. "So, when are we going to talk about this whole _'Mate'_ thing?"  
She glances at him. "Later. And don't touch that." Her hand clamps down on his right wrist as he tries to untie the fabric on the opposite one.  
He scowls. "Who are all these people, Renjin?"  
"Do you ever stop talking?"  
"I'm a lot quieter when I'm free."  
She looks like she might hit him before turning back to the trail.  
Which surprises Sanchu. She's never hesitated to lay hands on him before.

At the Old Tower, they wait again.  
A woman with dark blue hair appears, Chante beside her.  
"You're looking for Sven?"  
Renjin folds her arms, nods. Kiren sighs. "I was wondering who would eventually come to claim her."  
"Claim?" Asks Sanchu.  
Kiren turns and they begin their journey. They pretty much ignore the Human in the group. It's maddening to Sanchu.

"How old are you this Summer, Minnow?" Asks Kiren.  
"Eighteen."  
"Wait," Says Sanchu. "Aren't you a little young to be ransacking villages and unsuspecting caravans?"  
Renjin gives him a peeved look. "People younger than me 'ransack' at least two villages a week. And you can be more grateful. You were going to a brothel."  
"But I'm not pretty," Says Sanchu.  
"It's the curls," Says Kiren. "People like them."  
Sanchu has never thought much of his dark, curly hair before, other than the times he tried to brush it.

As it turns out, Sven is one of many concubines that belong to a rich Clan leader.  
The Clan is big and Sanchu is nervous to see such a big task undertaken.  
"Are you sure about this?" Asks Sanchu.  
Renjin just puts her hand over his mouth and they ease in to enemy camp.  
Sanchu should have opted to stay behind. His night vision is utter crap.  
They can see everything, but he's stuck in the dark.  
So when he knocks into their glass chimes and creates a racket, he curses Renjin under his breath.  
He doesn't have long though, because the wretched woman is grabbing him by the scruff and they're racing for cover.  
Chante starts spilling blood like water. He can see Renjin defending him in the low torch light.  
Kiren streaks past him with a screaming, fighting bundle. Renjin manhandles Sanchu out of the camp and Chante brings up the rear, defending them from anyone else who follows.  
Finally, under the light of the full moon, Sanchu gets a vague glimpse of Sven.  
She's got blonde hair kept short, almost white eyes.  
She can't be older than five. Disgust surges in Sanchu's guts. "It's true then. Even your children aren't safe from you."  
This time, Renjin does lay hands on him. He never sees the slap coming. But he does expect the blows after, and even the rough nudge of her foot in his ribs.  
Sven makes fearful noises behind her but neither Chante nor Kiren intervene on Sanchu's behalf.  
He knows she's done when she wipes the blood of slain men onto him, knowing how he feels about killing.  
"What's the plan?" Asks Chante.  
"I will take her home with me to be rehabilitated." Renjin's voice is calm. Like she didn't just beat down her partner.  
Chante pauses. "I think Sven needs to be somewhere with a stronger father figure."  
All three of them look at Sanchu. He thinks about what he's going to do to Renjin when she's under his hands next.  
"No," Says Renjin. "I promised I would take her. I can't hand off the responsibility to anyone else."

 

Chante and Kiren escort the trio back to Renjin's Territory.  
Sven is shaking like a leaf, pulling away when Renjin strokes her hair.  
Half of the Clan travels with her when they go to the North to find Anaya's choice.  
Sven is quiet for a long time.  
When they stop, Sanchu is the one that offers her snacks and sweets.  
It takes a few days for her to willingly take the candy from his hand before darting to the other side of camp to eat it.  
It's the third time he's done it when he looks up and sees Renjin watching them, expression conflicted.  
"Well? Are you going to say something?" He asks.  
Renjin looks away. "You're grooming her."  
Sanchu shakes his head. "She's scared. She needs to be able to trust someone. I'm the easiest to perceive as harmless."  
"Your Humanity is useful after all."  
He smiles.  
"But I swear. If you ever touch her, I'll make you regret it."  
And Sanchu realizes that there might be a reason for Renjin's inconsistencies. He debates on whether or not he should ask. "Did someone groom you?"  
She slips into her tent without a word.  
Sanchu realizes that Renjin has more depth than mere violence and control.  
Sven doesn't speak. He thinks all the trauma has made her mute.  
They're only a day's journey from Anaya's target and they've stopped at an inn because everyone is dirty and tired.  
Sanchu and Sven are sitting at a table, waiting on Renjin to get back. Sven is coloring something Sanchu has drawn for her. It's been a little over a year since he's actually done any painting and he sort of misses it.  
"You draw pretty," She says so quietly, he almost misses that, too.  
"Thank you, Sven."  
Her smile is shy, nervous. Like maybe she wants to please him but she's scared of what that will entail.  
"You should try drawing something," Says Sanchu. He eases another piece of old parchment from his travel bag and settles it on the table.  
She looks at him with wonder. "Really?"  
He nods. "Go ahead."  
"Will you color mine?"  
"You can color it if you like."  
Sven spends hours in Sanchu's company. He finds he likes it. It takes the lonely edge off of everything.  
Renjin gets anxious if they're ever alone so he's always sure to be in plain sight of the Clan.  
He gets the feeling that he isn't allowed to have sex with anyone but Renjin anyway.  
It's been at least a month since he's lain with that woman. He intends to change that once they've both showered.  
He doesn't know where Sven will be settled though.

Takka, seemingly aware of his intent, takes Sven to her own room.  
He can appreciate her for her intuition. But there's something about her that sets him on edge.  
He doesn't bother with overthinking it. Renjin's sweet body awaits him.  
Sort of.  
It's a matter of seducing her, he knows. And seducing that woman is akin to charming a rattlesnake.  
She's picky about what positions he takes her in and he wonders (even though he tries not to) what event she thinks of when she's in them.  
Is it a fond memory or a painful one that plays when she's in a position she hates?  
She isn't worried about him spilling his seed either, never has been.  
He thinks that she's barren and just hasn't told him yet.  
The boy is dead when they arrive. They know because there are bodies of Full Bloods and young, Human men, strung along the path and the dirt and in many, many places.

 

Renjin is busy in the months afterward, Sanchu doesn't know what she's planning but he's willing to be of service.  
Her hands are gentle but firm when she trains young Sven. The girl craves acceptance and Sanchu gradually realizes that Humans and Full Bloods aren't as different as he believed.  
This girl needs people to look up to.  
"So where were you before this?" He asks Takka while they're sitting at the table, waiting on Renjin to finish Sven's training for the day.  
Takka is quiet for awhile. "Playing mommy to a few lost little girls."  
He's surprised. "I guess you have a natural maternal thing going on. What happened to them?"  
"Chiikets."  
Sanchu has briefly heard of Chiikets. Renjin had said his name meant _Slayer of Men_. Sanchu always pictured him as a hardened, unattractive, terrifying man.  
"Did he kill them?"  
"No," Says Takka. "He kidnapped them. Made the youngest girl his wife."  
And while Sanchu has a gut-deep feeling that Takka isn't telling the whole story, Renjin doesn't speak well of Chiikets when she does speak of him, which is rare.  
But there's one thing he doesn't understand. "Why did they never come back to you?"  
"He brainwashed them. Like Renjin has done to you. That's why they didn't run."  
He can already feel the seed she's planted in his head. Almost deliberately. Certainly deliberately.  
That aside, why _didn't_ he run as soon as he knew he could?  
It isn't fear, he can tell that. But what is it?  
Is it desire? Simple need easily achieved by objectification?  
Then the question becomes: Does he see her as a person or a thing for his pleasure?  
Renjin hasn't freed him, merely lengthened his leash.  
He's disturbed to find he's okay with that.

 

The next time they have sex, he tries to find her pleasure, too.  
But it's scarce and she, as it appears, doesn't like sex in any form. He wants to ask but thinks better of it considering he can rarely get any sort of hints about her past as it is.  
He takes her on her knees and she swats his hand any time it strays to close to the junction of her thighs.  
He's surprised every time, too. Left to wonder why she's so resistant to the idea.  
She doesn't mind her breasts being touched, hates his hand drawing near her clit.

 

He doesn't know how she knows where the boy has been lain but he suspects it's one of the spirits that approached them so long ago.  
The magick Renjin performs has to be part of it, too.  
They're ready for Renjin to bring the boy out of the dirt.  
Her eyes take an ethereal glow and the wind starts shifting, it takes a Tarshish or two to really get it started.  
At first, people are vaguely uncomfortable. Sanchu feels a burn in his sinuses.  
Then Takka drops to the earth and screams, others begin to do the same and Sanchu thinks they deserve it until his throat starts to constrict and burn at the same time. Even Renjin is vaguely fazed.  
Sanchu looks up in time to see Full Bloods killing each other in horrible, awful ways, their remains spread in the dirt.  
It's gruesome and he thinks that he is grateful to have been out of it. Some of them arch and writhe and scream before dropping to the grass.  
It feels like forever before the pain lets up. Takka is panting and blood is spattered over her midsection and thighs.  
Renjin is shivering, looking more exhausted than he's ever seen her.  
" _What the hell?_ " Sanchu tries to say. But nothing comes out.  
Renjin glances at him and he tries to say, " _What the fuck just happened_?" But only the unnerving sound of air leaving his windpipe reaches his ears.  
She stands shakily, steps over to him. The ground has opened up in the center. He's thankful Sven is safe with Iiyo.  
"Sanchu?"  
He tries and tries and tries til he's screaming at her. Accusing her of having planned this.  
Renjin watches him intently, unable to understand him.  
Finally, he draws in the dirt, _What have you done?_

Renjin, looking like she might actually cry, says. "Something I shouldn't have."

The Full-Bloods and Skin-Walkers that survived the insanity that just occurred peer into the hole, muttering amongst themselves.  
Roxoi is trembling. "You've murdered us!"  
Renjin only manages to say, "I had no intention of it."  
Roxoi is taking her animal form then, full of rage and vengeance.  
"Now is not the time, Roxoi," Says Iiyo. Sven is cowering behind him.  
"Begin laying to rest our dead," Says Renjin. "Takka?"  
She sounds faint when she says. "Renjin?"  
"Are you well enough to take Sanchu with you?"  
Takka, still breathless, nods. Struggles to stand. Her hair alternates between long and curly and chin-length and straight.  
Renjin has known for a long time that Takka isn't who she allows people to believe she is. (But she never openly tells a lie. Simply omits here and there and lets one try to connect the dots. Renjin knows she'll never draw the right conclusion.)  
Sanchu draws in the dirt, _Did you know this would happen?_  
Renjin takes a moment before rolling her shoulders. "Not particularly. Anaya's the one that told me of it, so I was prepared for something to go wrong. But not like this."  
He glares at her then. Writes, _Every time I start to care about you, you do something crazy!_  
Renjin, choosing now of all times to be immune to him says, "I should have made you a Yona."  
He's surprised at this, Renjin glances at him, runs her palms over the pommels of her knives. "At least then, I could have shamelessly taken Xerxes on his offer."  
And Sanchu feels the stirring of an unfamiliar emotion at the idea. "He can't have you." Tries to pour from his throat.  
And at Renjin's look, he viciously writes it out with sharp strokes to the innocent earth.  
"Why? It weren't as though you want me."  
Sanchu fingers the hard wood of the bow slung over his shoulder.  
_It'd be easier_ , He writes, _if you would tell me how to please you._  
Renjin's guard drops for a split second. It's the first time he's ever seen Renjin open in the last two and a half years. She's even closed off to him during sex. (Especially since she avoids him during the Fall.)  
"Go," Says Renjin. "We'll talk about it later."

 

Sven and the boy have nothing in common. Their age difference is substantial, too.  
So Renjin appoints Sven to Iiyo, who can teach her both ways of her father.  
Full-Blood and Skin-Walker.  
Much to Sanchu's surprise, Iiyo comes from the Clan led by Renjin's brother.  
Exiled because of the affair he'd had with Yomshee.

He expects Renjin to begin avoiding him due to the Fall Season as she always does. Instead, she grudgingly teaches him about her secret places. All the ways she likes to be touched.  
He finds it strangely erotic.  
After that, she admits that she's been training him to be a proper Mate for the last two, almost three, years.  
That doesn't surprise him. Not at all.  
He's been able to come to terms with the fact that Renjin isn't planning on letting him go.  
And the way she looks when she sleeps, when he's found a sweet spot, when she smiles at something she finds particularly funny, stirs something inside.  
He's mad, he thinks. He's mad he didn't choose this. Mad about being mute, and lost, and wrapped up six ways to Sunday in this life he knows little about.

He's mad she made him love her.


	45. Brother Against Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orro has never believed in "An eye for an eye"  
> Until now.

Keteer and Noyek have been friends for some time.  
Danshu is fun but she sometimes says things that make the hair on the back of Keteer's neck stand on end.  
She and Songil had gone to spend some time with the family, even if Haunku hated the idea. The twins aren't home but Itan invites them in to wait for the girls.  
And while Songil hesitates, Keteer thinks nothing of it.  
Itan is friendly and cousins with Sorajin who, even in war, is kind to people.  
He offers them tea that Songil politely turns down and Keteer accepts. "How's Jyon?"  
"He's good. Recovering pretty well." Jyon has a severe bleeding condition. Not to mention he had some other blood disorders that made it hard in general.  
They had an awful scare last month in which Jyon cut himself accidentally and it ended up a horrible mess.  
Keteer has never seen her Uncle like that.  
"I'm glad to hear it," Says Itan. Songil doubts he really cares.  
At some point, Keteer starts to feel faint.  
"Are you okay?" Asks Itan.  
Her world grows bleary and dark.

When she wakes, she knows something has gone wrong. There's something sticky on her thighs and her lower belly aches in a strange way.  
Rolling over brings her Itan.  
_Oh no. This isn't right_ , She thinks.  
Itan's fingers in her hair make her stomach turn. "Are you well, Keteer?"  
She slaps his hand away. "You drugged me!"  
At his perplexed expression, she backs out of the Human-styled bed.  
"Keteer, you weren't this hostile this morning."  
She scowls. "I wasn't sober this morning."  
He sits up and she bares her teeth.  
She staggers out of the house barely clothed, Itan following, trying to reason with her.  
She refuses to hear it. He grabs her elbow when they're both on the porch and she tries to shake him off. "Don't touch me!"  
"Keteer. I-"  
"If you don't let me go right now, everybody is going to know what you did."  
His hands instantly release her. "It's not as though you were a virgin in the first place." _Who would believe you?_ His tone says.  
Keteer can feel herself tearing up. She'd been lost while her parents were separating, but it'd only been one man. She isn't a whore.  
She isn't. "Go to hell, Itan."  
At his hurt expression, she turns on her heel and storms off the property.  
"I thought you wanted me," He calls after her. Keteer doesn't acknowledge he spoke.

 

Orro shows up a few days later but Itan has made himself scarce.  
When asked, Danshu shrugs, she's too busy taking care of her other siblings to watch her elder brother.  
He snags Noyek when he catches her trying to sneak past him. "Where is he?"  
Noyek bites her lip and won't make eye contact.  
"Okay," He says. "Better question. What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at a holy temple atoning for your sin, or some shit?"  
She still says nothing and he gives her a rough shake. "I'm not playing."  
"I'm sorry," She says.  
They stand there for several long seconds before he makes a decision.  
He throws her arm up, tilts forward and when he's at his full height, Noyek's hips dig painful into his shoulder. She squirms and kicks. "Stop! Stop!"  
"I said I wasn't playing."  
Danshu comes running from the sitting room. "What are you doing, Quich?"  
Orro turns to her and she backs up a step. He feels bad crossing them with the title they've given him. As Quich, he's their honorary big brother. The one they can rely on when Itan is away.

But that's over now.

"Getting his attention."  
Danshu, already wild-eyed, comes between him and the door. "You don't have to do this."  
"Don't make me get ugly, Danshu."  
"You're already ugly!" Cries Noyek, still kicking and swearing and screaming.  
He rolls his eyes and pushes the older twin aside. "You tell him that it's only going to get worse until he faces me. He can't act like this and expect me to do nothing."

 

When he arrives home, Keteer is still curled up in his bedding, still miserable.  
Noyek bites him and tries to make a run for it the moment she's settled onto her feet. He grabs her by the hair and yanks and she screams, nails scrabbling at his wrist.  
He shoves her face down onto the couch, stuffed with something almost-comfortable covered in itchy upholstery. The cushions are wide enough for her to struggle against him without falling as he ties her wrists and ankles together.  
He stays straddling her for a minute and she sobs into the fabric. Some part of him feels pity.  
He buries it as he divests Noyek of her clothes, runs his hands over her bare skin as she writhes.  
He moves her to the shed before his Mother gets home.  
His Mother and Itan's were Pack once. He wonders why they aren't anymore.  
"What if I have to piss?" Asks Noyek. Her eye make-up has started running and her hands are tied to a hook dangling from a beam overhead.  
"Hold it til I get back," He says.  
"No. No, no- Please don't leave me."  
Orro rolls his eyes. "Nobody knows you're here but I. You're safe." _Until I return_ , He doesn't say.

 

When Itan and Monavere come to get her, she's mad at him. "What did you do to Quich?"  
Itan rolls his shoulders. "I gave his sister pleasure."  
Noyek knows she's crying, but only because of the wet that streaks down her face. "You promised that Niiniai would be the only girl you'd have aside from me."  
"She seduced me, Noyek. I was weak. I'm sorry."  
She turns away, touches her chin to her shoulder, when he goes to kiss her. "Have no more to do with me."  
"Noyek-"  
"Orro is planning to make a woman out of me. I'm going to let him."  
Itan clenches his jaw. "You can't."  
She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "I will. Our Estarred was right. We never should have-" She yelps when his hand collides with her face.  
"He isn't. And he never will be."  
"Face it, Ess'en. Our Cousin and friends have said it's wrong. You say it's okay but you can't even marry me."  
He opens his mouth then shuts it.  
Monavere watches with unnatural stoicism. Narrowed, yellow eyes bouncing between them.  
Itan cuts Noyek free. "You've told people."  
"I needed somebody to talk to!"  
"And you couldn't have spoken to me?"  
Noyek brushes past him, Monavere is silent for another moment. "It isn't as though I really understand anything but my own kind. This aside, don't you feel," Monavere licks his lips, "anything? Guilt? Shame?"  
Itan is baleful when he turns to the Skin-Walker. "Don't talk if you don't know anything."  
"We share the same values. The only things that are universally different are our outsides. We, you Full-Bloods, and the Humans frown upon marrying blood."  
"But we won't kill over it."  
"Maybe we should," Says Monavere. His threat isn't as subtle as he had hoped for. But subtlety is lost, frequently, on Itan. "Your Uncle loved his twin in ways he ought'nt have. Families are destroyed over it."  
"Ours isn't."  
"But Noyek is. Her views of family were blurred enough because of Ralom." _You've made it worse_ , Monavere hopes Itan hears.  
Before Itan can reply, Monavere takes his leave, following the girl down the trail.

 

Orro and Jyon debate on what should be done.  
Haunku is angry enough to go to war but Jyon isn't ready.  
He wouldn't be able to go, anyways. He'd be too easy to kill with his bleeding habits.  
Anju is more than ready to go after Rozolyn's life.  
Both Keteer and Hal play intercessors for Danshu and the other siblings.  
After a long, drawn out family debate, they decide killing Rozolyn and Itan, then melding the Clans is the best conclusion they can come to so that minimal blood will be spilled.

"I've got some news," Says Orro as he steps into the shed.  
He thinks nothing of it when she doesn't reply.  
Until he looks up from his scroll and finds the shed empty.  
A board cracks, another goes flying with Orro's anger. "Fuck!"

Two days later, Noyek has been accused of murdering, at least, two people and is reported to be on the run from Hunters. People who are in charge of justice in their own Clans  
Orro knows Itan has something to do with it.  
He prays she's found safety.


	46. The Rise and Fall of A Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shusho, although a behind-the-scenes player, is still one to acknowledge...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anybody else have an issue with the site last night?  
> Anyway, after forever, here's your next chapter.  
> This island is a really small world, isn't it? Haha

When he first meets her, they call her Lillith the Whore.  
He doesn't find that name very friendly.  
But Shusho the Dimwit is no better, he thinks.  
Even if it keeps the Jeakon from knowing the truth. What he's capable of.  
And he's already discovered he's capable of so much.  
Tvis is too anxious try out his gifts. Pandora doesn't appear to have any to speak of.

Lillith, the Jeakon's favorite, is beginning to be overlooked by everyone. Including Tvis, who is supposed to be her mate.  
He likes that Pandora doesn't crave the attention Lillith does.  
And the Jeakon, all of them smaller in stature, in white coats and all sorts of fascinating devices Shusho has grown up having used on him, turn their attention to sweet, young, Mara.  
An innocent, eager to please, Tarshish. They pry her legs open like hungry animals and ignore an all-too-willing Lillith.

 

"You should give it up," He tells her.  
She's sitting curled up in the Human-styled bed they gave her. Everyone else sleeps in piles of stuffed blankets. Not because they have to, but because after awhile, acting like Jeakon - pretending to be Jeakon - freaks them out. Her hands cover her face and he can smell her tears. She shakes her head. "I don't want to be forgotten, Shusho. I don't want it."  
There's nothing he can say to assuage her.

 

Tvis chooses Pandora over Lillith in the Summer.  
She refuses to eat after that, every attempt is brushed off.

 

Mara has started to cry when they make her take off her clothes before them. Shusho hates it. Wants to do something, anything.  
And he feels relief when Lillith slips in, already unclothed.  
She touches the shoulder of one of the Jeakon and he shrugs her off.  
"Take me," She says. "I want it."  
One of them looks up a her then, "You're used goods."  
Lillith is quiet for a split second. "But I know what feels good."  
They go back to ignoring her and she clenches her fists. "I'm good! You said I was your good girl! Your best-"  
"What a child," A man says between grunts, over Mara's sobs. "Should have named her Madonna."  
They laugh at that.  
Lillith looks truly hurt. "Look at me," She says. "Look at me!"  
Her voice rises in volume the second time and another looks up at her. "Get the hell out, slut. Your body isn't good anymore. You're worthless to us."  
Lillith is speechless.  
Shusho goes to put a hand on her but she hits one of them. Throws another into the wall.  
"Hey!"  
They break out the tasers and send Lillith to the floor, convulsing and screaming.  
The next thing Shusho is aware of, the men are exploding, blood splattering the walls while they scream, too.  
But he never had the ability to do that.  
Not once.  
He knows because he's tried.  
Lillith stands, gasping and sniffling. Mara is dead.  
Shusho feels awful.  
The Jeakon appear then, handcuffing Lillith and Shusho.  
Shusho goes peacefully. Lillith goes screaming both obscenities and apologies.  
When she's sedated, they talk, in hushed voices about putting her down. Shusho knows what that means. Has seen them do it to very, very sick Full-Bloods and half-dead Tarshish. Not to mention failed experiments.  
And he thinks, maybe Lillith needs that.  
She's tainted, after all. Ruined by these men in white coats and groping fingers.  
"What say you, Tarshish?" A woman asks him.  
"They were raping Mara," Is all he says. He'll let them think what they want. For Lillith's sake and the cleanliness of his hands.  
Days are spent in discussion over it, people are questioned.  
Tensions become strained between Haekon and Aakon.  
An Aakon girl is raped and the Haekon are blamed for it. Someone murders a Haekon and things get worse.  
Shusho tries to keep things level.  
Lillith awakes and they let her live.  
She kills Dajyon and becomes head of the Full-Bloods, The Haekon.  
Shusho is thought of as a protector. A strong, good man. He becomes the leader of the Aakon, The Tarshish.  
No killing is necessary.  
Lillith's people begin pushing his around, shamelessly.  
"We can work things out, Lillith," He says to her after witnessing one of his young men being beaten.  
It's terrifying to Shusho because their bones are light like those of birds. Their agility is far, far more than a Haekon's, but there's a price they have to pay for that.  
Shusho wonders if it was on purpose...  
Iijin, a Monkon, can kill a Pack of Haekon. A Haekon could kill a Flock of Aakon. But the Jeakon are at the top. And everyone was forced to accept that.  
Iijin is always tired, though. Always in his other form, he doesn't care one way or another about the disagreements between Races.  
Shusho doesn't care for him.

"I want to marry Lillith," He tells the Jeakon. "She needs some one to love her- She's been through so much."  
And both he and the Jeakon have ulterior motives for it.  
Lillith upon realizing she's being married to yet another man without her consent, tries to escape the dome they've been raised in.  
They lose two women and their favoured experiment.  
Shusho follows her. "Lillith."  
She ignores him. "Lillith! You have to come back!"  
"The Jeakon are going to put me down!" She cries. "I've killed two of them!"  
"Then let's tell them you're pregnant with Tvis' child."  
She freezes at that. "What?"  
And this is where Shusho's gift has come into its purpose.

He knows something that Lillith doesn't.

"We'll lie to them to keep you alive. And in the mean time, we'll do our damnedest to get them that baby we promised them."  
So they lie, tell the Humans- the Jeakon. That Lillith was scared for her offspring's safety, that she thought Shusho would kill it. Shusho is collared, programmed to tase him in the event he creates distress in Lillith.  
His marriage to Lillith, instead of unifying as he planned, creates a split in both Clans.

 

It's a struggle to get Lillith on the table, strapping her down is harder. Shusho stands in the room, docile and quiet.  
She spits obscenities at them as they come near her with equipment Shusho has never seen before.  
The screen beside them comes to life and Shusho jumps.  
"There," Says the Jeakon with the equipment. "Your baby wasn't hard to find at all."  
Lillith's eyes flick to Shusho, confusion twisting her features. He shrugs, feigns surprise and stupidity as the Humans fuss over her.

When an attempt is witnessed on Lillith's life, (There were many. This was just the time that Humans noticed,) she's moved to a more secure place for the remainder of her pregnancy.  
And, as it turns out, the baby is half Human.  
There's horror and awe that something like this has happened.  
Shusho can tell the Humans are bewildered.  
They name the child Able. Tvis and Pandora have a daughter named Yhi.  
Lillith despises them and, as he grows, the boy does, too.  
Shusho cannot curb the embers of hatred in Able.  
Tvis is made head of the side of the Clan that despises Tarshish.  
And the hatred between Lillith and Tvis grows utterly out of Shusho's control.

 

Able lures Yhi out to an unoccupied space in the dome and rapes her.  
When she's found beaten and mourning, Shusho knows what's been done.  
Able shrugs off all questioning, says he left her there when she wouldn't talk her father into stepping down.  
But Shusho knows the truth. The boy has the same look in his eyes that the men who used Lillith, raped Mara, had.  
He can't allow Able to do wrong again.

 

He and Able are picking herbs for their healer-in-training. "I wish you would admit to what you did."  
"I didn't do it. I just want to be at peace with them." But his tone makes him sound as though he doesn't care one way or another about peace.

Shusho takes a shuddering breath and prepares himself. Able cries out when he hits the solid ground, screams when Shusho straddles him.  
"Dad! Dad, no! _S-stop!_ "  
Shusho is sure to give the boy a quick death.  
He rolls off of Able when he's gone still, lies in the dirt beside him and tries to quiet his hitching breath. A glance at the adolescent beside him has him pounding his fist into the dirt in grief and agony.

He couldn't let Able hurt another girl.

 

The Humans have mostly backed off. They watch their creations with wonder.  
Shusho despises them.  
When he brings Able home, Lillith, at first, stares at him in silence.  
He is sure to look her in the eyes. He knows his own eyes carry murder in them. They always will.

He helps her bury Able in a pseudo-dusk the dome creates. She curls up in bed, unable to do anything for days. Shusho picks up the slack.  
When Lillith misscarries, it leaves them both clinging to life.  
Shusho had loved Able - still does. And he and Lillith had begun to really work things out, she'd allowed him to make love to her during the Summer. The manifestation of that is gone.  
He's destroyed his family. Wracked with guilt and grief, he turns Lillith over to a competing Haekon. Then he returns to his Tribe.  
But they despise him, too, for trying to make peace with the enemy.  
The Haekon start hunting him and the Aakon chase him out. The Monkon allow him to stay on their side of the dome, but not amongst them.  
He manages.

 

The Jeakon are slaughtered, many of them have run out into the island. Shusho doesn't think they'll survive very long.

 

He's hunting a meek when he feels her approaching, hunkering down and expecting her to pass by.  
He sees stars when something collides with the side of his head. He knows it's her because anyone else would have accidentally killed him.  
She shoves him into the dirt and her fist collides with his face again and again.  
His hunting knife finds her thigh and in her pain and shock, he shoves her off and runs.  
He ducks into a cave and makes an aggravated sound. He doesn't want to fight Lillith. Never has. But she's sorely regretting the first time she spared him.  
He throws himself to the left when she appears behind him, scrambling further into the cave. She tackles him and they grapple, their struggle echoing around them.  
He plunges the knife down and she kicks him off of her. The cave wall he collides with crumbles.  
And then he's falling.  
Backlit and silhouetted, Lillith watches him die.

 

When he wakes, there are people watching him.  
"You fell a long way, Mister," Says a woman.  
Shusho aches. He thirsts and has an overwhelming hunger.  
"How long has it been since the Humans were killed?"  
They pause, talk amongst themselves. The woman says, "Ten years."  
That makes no sense. It'd been only a year after their demise that he met Lillith and fell.  
"You've had a barrier around you until now. We thought you were dead."  
Shusho does feel drained. "I see." He returns to their Tribe until he's strong enough to travel.  
The Full-Bloods, surprisingly, ignore or tolerate the Tarshish.  
Shusho finds all of this very surreal.

 

King Sonere rises forty years after the fall of the Humans. He claims that the other Races should have their own Territories, too.  
And while he is King over Tarshish, Full-Blood and Skin-Walker, things are quiet. The people are monogamous with big families. Inji houses are built so women and men coming into adulthood have a chance of helping their families out of poverty.  
Shusho is amazed.  
This goes on for a short ten years. He's allowed his brother to have a Monastery in the south, Sonere's pregnant daughter is sent there.  
He sends a woman named Lillian to the West and a man named Monavere, to the East.  
Shusho knows Lillian isn't what she claims to be.  
Kuden is born, people rejoice almost as much as the Royal Family.

 

Five years later, Kenjin seizes power with Shura, the love-child of a man leading a rebellion and a woman who worked in a tavern.  
No one knows anything of Kenjin with the exception that he loves Shura, covets her like gold.  
He slays King Sonere during a festival and in the shocked silence, proclaims that there is a new Royal Family.  
Sonere's wife is slain at a banquet, in front of everyone, two weeks later.  
And while the general populace liked Kenjin when he was a charismatic leader of a faction that didn't want a woman leader. They hate him now.  
He allows brothels to be built. Claims Tarshish are the enemy and should be exterminated.  
Shusho and what's left of the Royal Family sneak the Tarshish to the cliffs, a place every married Female, accompanied by two unmarried Females - called Boten - would go to give birth. It's a safe place, really. Difficult to maneuver but easy for any healthy Tarshish.  
With Shusho's help, they learn about their gifts and hold off Kenjin's army.  
And this is where he stays for six years.

 

Inan and Keava are names that hold a lot of influence.  
He goes to meet them as soon as he can but one look at Inan reveals he's been marked.  
Not with a tattoo or a piercing. Nor any other body modification.  
It's exactly as Shusho feared. The only way to achieve power, is to suffer. And Inan has, most definitely.  
When asked, Inan shakes his head, says, "I let my weakness be the downfall of my family. I should have known better."  
Shusho knows there's a lot in that sentence. Inan never elaborates.  
Shusho trains with him, makes him stronger, faster.  
Inan is going to need it due to what's coming.

Inan is sitting with his head in his hands again. Shusho sits before him.  
Finally, Inan says, "Yorea is dead because of me. I've sent too many people to their deaths."  
Shusho takes his time to reply. "You did everything you could. You never knew the outcome would be this."  
Inan looks up. "We knew it was a possibility."  
Shusho moves to sit beside Inan. "And she - like all the others - bravely went."  
Inan is quiet and Shusho lightly touches biceps with him, having noticed Inan's enmity for touch.  
To his surprise, Inan presses more firmly against him. It makes him wonder when Inan had last allowed himself to be touched.  
"Have you thought about marrying Keava?" Shusho asks.  
Inan stiffens, draws away, slightly. "Once. When we were young. But she and I have been forced to have sex so many times, we wouldn't be able to do it now. Our marriage would be a touchless one."  
Shusho frowns and Inan's eyes meet his.  
In this moment, Inan presses against him again.  
And Shusho thinks about drawing back. Thinks that maybe, he's misunderstood Inan's intent.  
Because Inan is as sexual as Keava - meaning they aren't. They don't talk about it, don't partake in it, and never seem to think about it.  
Inan leans forward, lips brushing the space between Shusho's lower lip and chin and he holds still. Because Inan is probably lonely. Probably skittish.  
And Shusho hasn't had intimate contact since the cliffs all those years ago.  
He keeps his hands to himself when his mouth finds Inan's.


	47. One After Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Sasayo's beginning to Sanyo's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one I would like a little insight on... I know it needs some work....

Shura is looking at him. It's the first time he's ever met the woman, he has only ever heard of her.  
People say she's kind and sweet and would be good to her people if it weren't for Kenjin.  
Having just watched her put an end to her eldest daughter's life, he doubts that.  
She quirks her lips. "Poor baby," She coos to him. "Did the twins have too much fun with you?"  
He stares at her, eyes wide, breath harsh and ragged. "Please."  
False pity turns to apathy. "Here's my conundrum, sweety." Her eyes glance down to the dead girl on the stone floor. "While chances are low of anyone believing the stable boy's brother - who is probably insane with grief, I can't have you telling anyone about this."  
He shakes his head, breathless. "I won't. I promise I won't!"  
"I'm going to to give you three options, baby doll. Choose carefully."  
The boy is quivering, so anxious he would probably hurl if his stomach weren't so empty. Yokksun was dead, nobody wanted to admit it, but he knew. He knew. "Which option lets me go home to my sick momma?"  
She smiles grimly.  
Unsure of what exactly she wants, he lets out a quivering breath. "T-two?"  
The gleam in her eyes goes from sly to malicious. He knows he has chosen wrong.  
Out of one of her boots, she draws a pair of crossing blades, fingers in the circular handles. "Stick out your tongue."  
"N-no. Please don't hurt me!"  
She runs the two-blades-in-one over his cheek. "It isn't going to hurt for very long, baby doll. This is what you chose. Consider yourself favoured by the gods that I'm letting you live."  
"Mistress?" Calls a soft voice from the other side of the door.  
"What?" Asks Shura, voice flat. "What do you want, you pathetic little wretch?"  
"Master Kenjin has requested your presence," She says. "As he put it, _Promptly_."  
She glares into the frightened boy's eyes, takes his lower lip, in the middle, between the blades.  
He screams in agony and, despite himself, holds still, afraid struggling will make it worse. _Oh_ , He thinks as he whimpers. _Oh, please make this stop._  
She runs the blades, opened to full distance over the slowly clotting wound on his ribs, cuts all of Anaya's punctures open once more, slaps him until he starts begging again.  
"Mistress," Says the woman.  
"Enter, you little slut."  
"Ma'am, I-"  
"Now."  
A young woman, maybe his brother's age, edges in, takes one look at the scene before her, and turns to leave. "I'll tell Master you're busy!"  
"Kiren."  
The woman stops mid-stride. Her shoulders slope with defeat as she turns to face them.  
"Come here." He's amazed. He's never seen anyone of mixed heritage before. "Do you like the way she looks?" Asks Shura.  
He nods, slowly. Unsure as to where this is going.  
She moves to stand in front of Shura as she's guided, closes her eyes and the older woman's hand slides over her body. "Real shame she's a slutty lesbian."  
He has no idea what it means, but he hopes it means she leaves him alone soon.  
She pushes her servant to the floor, she jumps away so she doesn't land on the corpse of her Mistress' daughter. "Let's teach you about lesbians, baby doll."  
She rips Kiren's clothes off, he grimaces at the sound of tearing fabric. "They aren't pretty."  
Kiren's eyes become distant, she's trying to be anywhere but this moment. "You're just upset you caught me with a girl."  
Shura slaps the back of the woman's head so hard, her forehead knocks against the boy's stomach. "Suck him off, slut."  
"I don't like-"  
"You're a sexual deviant, Kiren. You like every brand of sex. Male or Famale."  
Kiren says nothing as the boy whimpers anxiously. She makes a strange noise as the boy watches the blades disappear between the woman's legs. Shura touches her breasts, whispers things in the servant's ear. He whines when she takes him into her mouth, body rocking with whatever ministrations being performed on her, he isn't really sure what Shura is doing.  
He's bleeding and his lip hurts and now somebody is touching him. The pair of blades shifts and Kiren screams, Shura moans. "That's right."  
"M-Madam! Master is looking for you," Says a male servant. "He's quite angry you haven't come."  
"Oh," Her voice is breathy. "That's going to change if he's willing to give me another five minutes."  
"He isn't."  
With a huff, Shura shoves the servants head against the boy's pubic bone. "If you fucking move, I'll fuck every hole of yours with a serrated knife," She says. Her hands grope Kiren's breast and backside before she stands and disappears down the hall.  
He panics. What if she doesn't come back until tomorrow? Or the day after.  
The woman withdraws and he gasps, despite the awful wound in his lip and how much it hurts to breathe. "You're going to get us in trouble!"  
She shifts and gingerly removes the blades from her secret place. Blood has coated them, dripping from her hairless flesh. "She's going to cut your tongue out when she's done. Maybe worse. I am not going to sit here and wait for her to stick scissors up my ass until she climaxes. It's not going to happen."  
He blushes at her language and she cuts him free. "Come with me, child."  
So he does. They meet a woman a few years older than him, her hair is dark, expression loath towards everything. Her lashes are thick and dark and he resists touching them.  
"You need clothes," She says.  
"No, time," Says Kiren.  
She sighs, grabbing the boy by the arm. "Ehao."  
"S-Sasayo."  
"Right."  
It takes a long time to get to the exit.  
"Do you want to go with Ehao or I?" Asks the woman with long, blue hair.  
Sasayo shakes his head. He's lost and confused. He doesn't know where he should go.  
"I'll take him," Says Ehao. "You've got a lot going on with the Pride."  
Kiren nods. "Thank you."  
Ehao shrugs. "You're doing me a favour, really." They nod to each other. "And Kiren?"  
She turns, "Hm?"  
"If you ever see Lillith, destroy her face and tell her it's from me."  
"If I can catch hold of her before Ken does."  
"Eh. She always was pretty agile."

 

They stop at a town and buy him clothes. Ehao doesn't seem bothered by his nudity, but others are. "Why do you and Kiren hate the woman so much?" He asks from the dressing room.  
There's a long pause. "She used to force Kiren and I to do things to each other for money."  
He doesn't know what to say to that. "But Kiren likes girls...."  
"That may be, but she - and I, for that matter - like to be.... Intimate with people we choose. There's a difference."  
Sasayo agrees with that.

 

"Why don't you care about my nudity?" He asks as they cross the border into NorthEastern Territory. He thinks about asking if she's a lesbian, too.  
"I know you would not dare come at me with that," She says. "Also, gender and reproductive organs mean nothing to me."  
"So you're like Anju of the North?"  
Ehao pauses. "Something like that. She isn't from the North, though. She comes from hell."  
Sasayo is perplexed but says nothing.

 

"Alright. This guy's an asshole," Ehao's tone implies she really doesn't like him, he's met Anju and when they insult each other, Sasayo can tell they're friends.  
But she isn't friends with Naija. "Just keep your head down and be sweet. You can do that, right?"  
Sasayo, confused, nods slowly.  
"Good," She says. "Bide that time of yours. Mate with a Female and be sure to get her pregnant. Then kill this stupid fuck." Her voice is flat, but Sasayo can pick up smouldering hate just under the surface.  
In hindsight, he should have asked to go with her.

 

In this Clan, He meets Mokko, who is treated rather badly for liking men.  
Naija taunts him relentlessly.  
And Sasayo tries to take Ehao's advice, but he's frequently beaten for even looking at a Female the wrong way.  
It makes sense to him that Mokko would become gay.  
He starts to day dream about killing Naija in all sorts of ways and it confuses him. He's never had these thoughts before.  
"That's normal," Says Mokko. "Different circumstances change your hormones. Violence is one of the side effects. It's a good thing," Promises Mokko.  
Sasayo disagrees.  
Fall Season begins to approach and Sasayo volunteers to stay behind and keep an eye on things.  
Naija gives him a strange look and Sasayo does his best to appear as submissive as possible.  
A hand cards through his hair. "Okay," Says Naija. "But I need to be sure you're in your place first."  
Sasayo is confused, yet again. He's been good for as long as he's known the rules. He's tried to keep his head down and play submissive Subordinate Male. What more can he do?  
Naiji guides him to his knees and dread fills him. "S-Sir! I don't think I can-"  
"Are you my Subordinate or not, Yo?"  
All those eyes on him add to his shame. Mokko looks like he wants to say something but Sasayo just shakes his head. There's no point in Mokko getting beaten for standing up for him.  
Naiji, Sasayo soon discovers, likes gagging his Subordinates.  
And if that's what he does to the Males of the group, he wonders how much worse it is for the Females.  
It's over and done with soon enough, Naiji pleased and his Second mocking Sasayo.  
And Sasayo lets them do what they want like a good, low-ranking Subordinate Male.  
Because they'll be sorry.

 

When they're gone, he smiles at Naija's children, the ones that don't belong to the Chosen.  
He slides the knife out of the sheath laced into the flesh of his arm.  
A woman throws herself between him and the children. "Please! We can do this peacefully."  
He lets her go with the children, lies with every Female he can before Naija gets back.  
A few of them get pregnant and, because he'll have fathered the most in the Clan, it means it's time to take over.  
Assuming that woman doesn't return with Naija's children.  
He's never considered killing children before. And the fact that his instincts cry for it, disturbs him. Makes him sick.  
Naija is furious when he returns. Sasayo and Dedash have taken the leadership positions while he's been away.  
He expects a fight. But he doesn't expect Naija to stab Dedash to death and force every pregnant Female to miscarry. They chase both Sasayo and Mokko from the Territory.  
Sasayo feels awfully guilty. He knows he never should have done that. Wouldn't have if he'd known this would happen.

He wanders until he meets Kiren again. "What happened?" She asks him.  
He shakes his head and she leads them to the Pride.  
Sasayo expect Chiikets to do the same initiation that Naiji did.  
Instead, he gets an examination and rules about what Chiikets will and won't tolerate.  
Never once, does he touch Sasayo or Mokko is a way that isn't purely clinical.  
Sasayo tells Mokko to keep his sexual preferences to himself because Chiikets has already made it clear he won't allow homosexuality.  
Mokko reluctantly agrees.

It's years later that Kajmir walks in on Mokko and a random Male he brought in from the Trading Grounds.  
He's disgusted, throws the Male out, but only tells Chiikets he was snooping through Denii's panty drawer.  
It reaches a point that, out of the Males, only Chiikets and Liv are unaware that Mokko is homosexual.  
He observes that Kiren is openly homosexual but Chiikets allows it because she mates with him.  
When he brings it up to Mokko, he grimaces. "I can't mate with a Female. That's just-" He cuts himself off. "I just _can't._ "  
Sasayo hopes Chiikets doesn't learn about Mokko too soon.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

When she was young, she used to dream that a man would rescue her.

He never came.

Instead, Shiseken had. Kiren, too.

And, at first, that was enough. It was enough that somebody loved her enough to pull her - along with themselves - from the pit.

And then, when she had her own two feet to stand on, Chiikets and Kajmir appeared like two predators in the night. There to take down and drag back to their dens, any unsuspecting meeks. She wouldn't let her dreams take root again.  
She thought she was strong. She thought she could be fine with a family that would die for her.

"Have you ever just let yourself be, Triska?" Chiikets asks. He's unable to look at her while he struggles to pull the reluctant meek into the stable. They might be timid animals, but they are no less carnivores, powerful in build.  
She tilts her head. "Be?"  
"Yes. Let go of whatever is eating you and just," He gives a rough tug and the animal squeaks, "lived." He slips out the gate and shuts it before the meek can follow.  
Triska is at a loss. "I don't really have the capacity or the time. It's always about the next Winter."  
Chiikets shakes his head. "That's no way to live."  
"You do it all the time."  
"That's different. This is why I'm allowed to live. I'm useful. I get us through. And while it's necessary that everyone pulls their weight, it's still mainly my responsibility." He stands, leads her back to the fire pit and sets up a board of wood over what might be a pair of tin barrels. "Kajiim. You like to dance, don't you?"  
The brown-skinned girl shyly nods, fingers anxiously twisting in her hair.  
And Triska's heart skips at the kind expression his face takes. "Would you tap out a rhythm for me?"  
She steps closer, allows him to lift her slim frame onto the board. He smiles at her, shows her what he wants her to do. The rhythm she half-stomps onto the board is amplified by the metal underneath.  
Kiren has a stringed instrument she's taught herself to play over the Winter when they could do nothing but stay inside.  
Kajmir laughs. "I know this tune."  
Honjin and Kajiim both practice on the board, smiling and laughing while Kiren tunes her instrument.  
It's pretty in time with the girls even beat and Triska finds herself swaying just a little.  
"Why don't you start us off, Xil?"  
Xil nods, her voice is smooth and medium in pitch: " _Oh, tell me about that time when we went to the seaside.  
Tell me everyday we wake in the sunlight.  
Never let me forget the look you had when you first said we'd go._."  
Chiikets takes Triska by the hand. "Have you ever danced before?"  
Triska frowns. "No."  
Chiikets makes her feel strangely cold-hot when he looks at her. "The good thing about dancing with someone, is that it's like fighting as a duo. Just as intimate. Just as precious."  
He guides her through the steps and she feels more than she has in a long time. When Xil goes into the chorus, Chiikets' voice is there, but softer, letting her keep the lead. It'd sound seductive if his voice was over hers.  
And Triska can't even believe that this is the same man she's known for the last year.  
" _Don't let me stray so far our hearts part.  
Don't let me wander until my loneliness is all I know.  
I only wish to know the world.  
All that matters is you._ "  
Triska can feel herself getting lost in all sorts of ways.  
Kajmir's voice isn't nearly as deep as Chiikets's when he takes the lead for the next verse.  
" _All my days  
I dream of bringing you to belong with my family.  
This time has sent my heart to yearning endlessly.  
I wish to see you in the bright, midday sun._ "  
Everyone goes silent and waits a beat.  
Kajmir sounds sincere, almost what Triska would call sexy. " _All that matters is you._ "  
And then, as though it had been practiced - And maybe it was. Maybe their families taught them how to harmonize - their voices, even the bad ones, begin the next verse, yet Xil and Kajmir are still heard over everyone else. It's beautiful and Triska is able to let go and enjoy them, is able to dance to her Leader's beat.  
And she wants to.  
The entire night, they sing and dance and play different instruments.  
And Triska loves Chiikets in a way she ought not.

Decides opium will be her only lover when he chooses Shiseken over her.

 

It's a cool, Spring day when he comes to her. "Triska, you're sick."  
"I'm not." But she is. She knows she is. Because Shiseken, once her Savior, her sister, is now something to be overcome. Someone to pillage and take everything from.  
She doesn't feel a shred of guilt.  
His eyes, blue ― So very blue ― and concerned, take her in again. "Then what is wrong?"  
She turns him away and he doesn't push it.

 

It's when she spies Shiseken washing clothes down by the river, singing some old, handed down song that Triska feels very much like Asheer.  
She shoves Shiseken into the river, they struggle and Triska forces her under the current, Shiseken's nails razing welts on her skin.  
Shiseken would have, on any given day, been able to overcome Triska. But a miscarriage has weakened her.  
"I wouldn't if I were you."  
Shiseken is allowed up when Triska turns to face Chante. He's sitting on a tree branch, watching with that stupid, sly look on his face. "He'll kill you for that. And we both know that's far from what you want."  
Triska glares. "What do you know?"  
He leers at her and she stands tall, regardless that he's always scared her.  
"He's already going to kill her," Says Shiseken, rising from the water. She's angry. And Triska knows their bond is broken now.  
Chante shakes his head. "He isn't going to know. Because we definitely wouldn't want him finding out _you_ know Mokko's homosexual."  
She gives him a look. "You wouldn't dare."  
"Oh," Says Chante. "Just you wait."  
Shiseken makes a tactical retreat. Triska has to know, "Why are you keeping me out of death's snare?"  
Chante grins, white teeth and dark eyes. He looks like his cousin and sisters but different somehow. Less innocent and pure, perhaps? "Because I love women in my debt."  
And Triska, even though she thinks him attractive, wishes Shiseken had just ended her.

 

Triska comes to find that Chante can and will blackmail his way around. She takes more and more to being high than being in the present.  
It isn't fair that she'll only ever be the extra baby-bearer. That Chante has put her in a bad situation.

 

It's two weeks later that outsiders bid her to lure Tevil and Sanyo to the trails.  
They promise opium if she does. They know they have her because she's in desperate straits.

￣￣￣￣￣￣

"Mokko," Says Chiikets in the dead heat of Summer. "Is what I'm hearing true?"  
Chante, the snitch, stands behind the auburn-haired man, smiling impishly.  
Sasayo hopes he quits that before he marries Kajiim.  
No wonder she favours Tevil over him.  
Speaking of which...  
Chiikets asks, "Are you practicing homosexuality?"  
At the same time Sasayo asks, "Where's Tevil?"  
Chiikets gives a stern look to Sasayo before the younger man says, "I haven't seen she or Sanyo all day..."  
"Triska thought it would be good to take them out."  
".... Just them?" Asks Chante.  
Sasayo watches something change in Chiikets' demeanor. He steps into Mokko's space. "We aren't done." And then he backs off. "Go and get Kajmir. Chante, Sasayo, you're with me."

 

His long legs are hard to keep up with for Sasayo, who is only a little taller than a Human Male, Chante is darting ahead, appearing like lightning. Sasayo is amazed. Then not when he realizes a snitch has to be quick.

Chante is also a good tracker. He doesn't waste time sniffing this way or that. A glance to the right and to the left and the time for Sasayo to take three strides is all he needs before he's taking off down the trail to the left.  
They follow until they come into a clearing. Men scatter as Chante begins using what's known as Lightning technique. He can't kill all of them, but he appears and slaughters quite a few. Chiikets kills several bare-handed. His knives stay in their sheaths.  
Sasayo tries to track down Tevil and Sanyo.  
A child screams, high pitch and shrill and Sasayo powers through the brush, ears drawn back and intent on the sound.  
When he comes to them, there's a man atop Tevil and he freezes. He's disgusted but he doesn't know how to help Tevil without getting her injured.  
A flash of red, like the wind, shoves past Sasayo.  
The red blur knocks into the man and Tevil scoots away, crying out for Chante or Kajiim or anyone.  
Sasayo scoops her up as a second outsider comes into view.  
He won't be able to hold the man off for long, but it'll be enough for Tevil to escape.  
It _has_ to be.  
Chiikets pauses in beating the other man senseless. Looks up at Sasayo and notices what he's looking at.  
Slowly, he stands and steps between the outsider and Sasayo.  
He's bloody and bruised.  
His side is weeping blood.  
The man looks like he's going to attack before thinking better of it.  
Chiikets turns to Sasayo then. There's something in his eyes as he approaches them and Sasayo tenses. Holds Tevil tighter when Chiikets' arms come up. And feels his brain malfunction as Chiikets pulls them both against him. Sasayo's face meets Chiikets' ribs and Tevil squirms in his arms in agitation. She's getting too old, much too old to be coddled. But she pauses at the affection Chiikets is showing them, looks up at him with serious, dark eyes.  
Men tromp through the trees, some of them scream and another child is crying out, this one for his mother and father. Chiikets backs away from them at once and runs as if his life depends on it, to the sound. Sasayo decides it's safest for him to take Tevil home.  
He does pray for Sanyo to be saved. He prays the entire time he's returning. The other men are gone, but the women are gathered, waiting for any sign. Anything at all, that tells them who has gone and who will come home again.  
He gives Tevil to Kajiim who cries silently and clings to her little sister.  
Triska is brought back.  
But there is no Sanyo.

They ask her over and over again but she says she has no idea what they did with him. Who they are or where they went.  
The first time Chiikets hits her, the entire Family recoils in surprise. But Triska isn't one of them anymore.  
And she won't be again.  
They search for another few days before Denii breaks down into tears, unable to go on.  
Sasayo hopes they've killed Sanyo. He can't bear thinking of what will happen to the boy otherwise.  
Chiikets' bloodlust is turned upon Triska, then. Allowing Shiseken, Kiren, and Asheer to chase her out of his Territory with no mercy.  
They stop at the boundary line, watching her with malice. But Denii breaks between them, full tilt, screaming, "You've killed my son!"  
Shiseken is forced to follow, obligated to look after the grief- stricken woman.

Chiikets is pacing the floor, just as he did last year at this time, Kajmir watching him, head in his hands, crying so subtly, no one would know unless he looked at them.  
Chiikets is so angry, he can't focus. Or maybe that's the fever he hasn't quite managed to overcome. He really isn't sure. "You can blame me."  
Kajmir takes a moment to compose himself. "Why would I do that?"  
They had the same dialogue last year, too. Every year for the last five. But this is different. Someone has found a new lead on Sanyo and it's stirred everyone up. Stirred Denii and Kajmir into both hope and despair over their son.  
"It's just as much my fault as it is Triska's."  
Kajmir says something in Frank, Chiikets wonders if he's being cursed. "You didn't know she was a bitch."  
He scrubs his left hand over his face. "I should have known, Mir. I should have-"  
"You couldn't have proven it even if you did know." Kajmir sounds like he's trying to convince them both that it's not worth blaming Chiikets. He sighs. "I blame everyone right now," He says. "I'm scared for my son. I can't stop these visions of why they would want him. The torture they may be putting him through. And I'm sitting on my hands."  
Chiikets wishes he knew what to do.

Kajmir goes to be by himself while he waits for Chiikets to decide what they'll do next.  
Chante watches their Father restlessly pace the wooden floor. His hand scrubs over his face, covers his mouth, rubs his temple, and runs through his own hair. Chante thinks he looks lost.  
"I await orders, Father."  
"You could have mentioned what happened between yourself and Kajiim."  
"Now isn't the time," Says Chante. As an afterthought, "Sir."  
Chiikets turns, gives Chante a measuring look. Like he knows what Chante is doing. The other man isn't really worried about it, though. Chiikets is feverish and getting worse. "What are we going to do about Sanyo?"  
Chiikets goes back to pacing. "We need to...." He takes another breath. "We should..." Chante can tell his focus is everywhere and nowhere all at once. He really feels quite bad.  
He's shocked when Chiikets gives his own bandages a rough jerk, hisses, but his voice is clearer. "I need you to take Sasayo and Denii..."  
"And?"  
"Sh-Shiseken. Asheer. Kiren."  
"Should I take Kajmir?"  
Chiikets, perspiration becoming noticeable, shakes his head. "I need," He sounds slightly faint, gives another tug to his wounds, "I need him here."  
Chante wonders if he should just put their Father out of his misery right now. He has the ability to make it painless.  
Aside from himself, only Kajmir would know... "Anything else?"  
"No."  
Chante turns to go and Chiikets grabs his arm. His eyes, slightly glazed over, search Chante's for something.  
"Yes, Father?"  
Chiikets holds his gaze for another long moment, looks like he wants to say something really important then lets go and steps back, looking tired and worn down and _old._ "I don't remember."

 

They scower the places Sanyo is likely to be hidden. But they don't find him.  
They return home in time to helplessly watch Kenjin finish their Father off.  
Chante drags Shiseken out of sight before Kenjin can hunt them, too.  
It's agony, waiting it out in terror and grief. Knowing he could have given Chiikets an easy laying to rest.

And feeling guilty he didn't.

Kajmir is dead, too.  
Denii stops eating. Never has anything to say.  
Chante isn't good at it, but he does his best to try to pull people together to get things done. Denii never does anything he asks her to.  
He lets it slide.  
Her son is dead or, more likely, in a brothel and her husband was killed. He can't blame her for having no motivation.  
The children were hidden in the cellar under the floorboards of the cabin.  
Denii and Shiseken stop being close because Ko is alive and safe. Shiseken feels guilty but Denii feels bitter envy and pain.  
Kiren and Sasayo pick up as much of the slack as they can but Chante is still cracking under the pressure, doing all he can.  
They don't have time to go after Denii's son anymore.  
The cabin needs repair and the children are scared and the Pride's death count keeps going up and up and _up_ , leaving them ravaged both physically and emotionally.  
The meeks were slaughtered. There's little food and water left.  
Chante is overwhelmed, only having ever been a subordinate and, Kajmir having been labeled as Chiikets' successor, no one else was trained.

Kajmir dying had never been an option.

So here they are, two years later, Sasayo petitioning Chante to let him search for Kajmir's son, Denii barely responsive, and Kajiim angry at him.  
She told him, quite rudely, that he needed to stop messing around and get married. He had pushed against her. Who was she to say something like that to _him?_  
He was the oldest of their family, the head of their Clan.  
But that has never stopped Kajiim from saying hurtful things before. From being painfully, awkwardly honest.  
He admires and resents her all at once.  
Sasayo, on the other hand, flat out annoys him, stirring up a few members here and there until Chante has no choice but to allow them to look for Sanyo once more.  
It's aggravating, and Sasayo knows Chante needs him, but the boy can't seem to let it go.

It takes another full year for Sasayo to find him, dead-eyed and doll-like, in a brothel to the SouthWest.  
He's sure to give every last culprit a painful, mortifying death.  
Chante is amazed that he's come home. The boy's mother comes to life in a way they never thought they'd see again.  
But the boy is not who he was before. And Sasayo has quietly voiced to Chante that Sanyo was better off dead. They change his name to _Sech_ , his given name having been used in profane ways. He eventually starts to act like a normal person. But Chante isn't sure he'll ever really get better.

The first time the boy's eyes meet his, Chante knows the boy has been changed in ways he's not going to be able to fix.  
His eyes are haunted and hollow like those who've come before him.

Chante knows he wasn't taken specifically to clean the rooms.

A chill goes through Chante and guilt settles into his bones. A glance at Sasayo says he feels it, too.

 

Then Kenjin appears out of a blizzard that leaves them blind.  
Chante knows he's come to finish them off, gets into a brawl with a man bigger than himself and takes a long fall into a divide a short run from the cabin.  
The snow bank cushions his fall but he isn't willing to make the climb back up.  
He stares up at the walls on either side. Hopes his sisters made it out okay.

And lets them think he's dead.

It's a great weight off his shoulders. He knows it's selfish and wrong. But he can't bring himself to care. He was never meant to lead the Pride. That was for Chiikets. For Kajmir. Anyone but himself. 

When he meets Thorne again, she's dedicated herself to a Human abbey, never to love again.  
Yorea has died in battle.  
Chante feels sorrow for her, comes around a lot more until they're particularly close.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Sech is a quiet child now. He shies away from every type of physical contact, always forgets where he is.  
There are times, that he clings to Sasayo, seeks out his affection.  
But the man is starting to notice something is... _Off_ about the boy. He has no idea how to rectify it.  
He marries Kajiim in the Fall. He notices that he's taller than she is. He's taller than most of the women now and it's funny that he never noticed his physical changes until this point.  
He still thinks about Triska sometimes. Wonders why she would do what she did. Wonders if Sech is going to heal. Wonders how things could have been. But he has to quickly drop it due to the chores piling up. He doesn't have time to worry or say, " _what if._ "  
And maybe it's for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the timeline was very difficult to put together in this one....


	48. When the World Changes Rapidly (And Yet Slowly All the Same)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Givan has a long history. Some of it, she wants to forget. Some of it, Kiren wishes she would remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't think I'll keep this chapter. But it might inspire me to write _something_ decent soon.  
>  For any who have made it this far, please do leave some comments. They encourage me during dry spells such as these...

Givan doesn't particularly care that Nachte is staring at her.  
Nor does she care that there are four cubs in the room, although, honestly, the one to the right doesn't smell like a cub.

She smells like Nachte.

The man sets a cup of injin before her. It's warm and smells quite sweet with lope syrup and kii berries. "How's Kiren?"  
"Dead to me," Says Givan, struggling against the ghost smell of honeysuckle warmed by sunshine.  
Four sets of feet shuffle from the room and Nachte shifts in his chair. "For what? Didn't you say you loved her and _shoun-de-nich?_ "  
Givan notes the phrase, meaning "Other way round." Only because Westeners are known to use that phrase, it verifies what she's thought all along. But it doesn't matter that he comes from Inan's Territory.

She shrugs. "Kiren's a liar. She'd rather be part of the Pride than stay my lover. She made her choice. I'm making mine."  
Nachte makes a noise that indicates he doesn't agree. But Givan tries to remember he isn't in his right mind at this time.  
"So where will you go?"  
"North," She says. "Haunku said he might need my expertise there. And I would love to see him take down Kenjin."  
Nachte politely clears his throat and Givan glares. "None of that."  
She knows he's smiling when he says, "Sorry."  
They sit for another long moment and she listens to him stir his cup, thinks maybe he's thinking back to a few months ago.

"Did you love him, too?" Maybe it's an impolite question to ask, but Givan has never cared for shallow tact.  
The stirring, a quiet clink of metal and glass, pauses and she thinks she has hit him a little harder than necessary.  


"He used to think I was homosexual, you know?" There's sorrow, something like humour in his voice. "We used that for years after he realized he was an idiot." His voice crackles and Givan waits. She honestly thinks he hasn't been able to express his grief to anyone. They've settled in a nook between Kuden and Ralom's Territories and he no longer associates with anyone but these four pitiful creatures and the wolves that follow them.

Nachte has become a shut-in and Givan pities him. He needs a life outside of being a parent of children that aren't even _his_ and struggling with every loss that has intertwined itself with his bones.  
He takes a soft breath that hitches and Givan wonders if she should tell him to stop that. That everyone would want him to move on.

"You know," He says when his breathing is under control, "I used to believe that-" A thud outside sends Nachte scraping his chair away from the table.  
The cubs start crying out for him and Givan follows his frantic pace. She runs into him at the doorway and the acrid smell of his fear washes over her, overrides his natural smell of freshly cut grass after a heavy rain.  
"Go, Haven! _Run!_ " His voice is frantic, the Jankets above them calls out, and Givan hopes it's only the one-headed variety.  
"Damn it," Says Nachte. It's more of a hiss and when he moves out the door, Givan grabs his arm.  
"You can't go out there."  
Ripping his arm out of her grip, Nachte says, "I **can't** let them die."  
It erupts into chaos after that, Nachte yells for Haven to move, yells for the others to hide. Luca cries out for Nachte to get out of the way and one of the girls has started to cry.  
Everyone goes silent at the crunching of bones. Nachte gasps and hisses breaths through his teeth and the creature rumbles.  
"G-Givan. I need you to promise you'll take Rozolyn to Loffen before you go."  
"You are insane," Says Givan. "Do you know how far out of my way that is?"  
Nachte screams as more crunching ensues. Givan thinks the animal is tearing him apart, Jankets always were cruel creatures. "Please!" Cries Nachte. "Please, do this!"  
Both of the girls are crying, now. One of the boys is drawing a blade, Givan only knows because of the soft _snnk_ , that comes from her far right and Nachte's quivering voice ordering them to stay back.  
They start screaming all at once when another cacophony of shattering bones begins. This time, Nachte screams only once and it's quickly choked off.  
Givan wonders why Nachte didn't beg to be saved. Why he would make his last request such an annoying one. Why not send a message to Naori or ask to be lain ー Well, have his personal effects ー beside Jezreel?  
The beast rumbles and Givan shifts, waits for it to leave and hopes the cubs are hiding. She may have heightened senses, but she has nearly no chance of killing it. _Large_ Clans are lucky to even bring one down. Just herself and her lack of sight, means that if anyone is discovered, she cannot save them.  
Minutes tick by. She waits for a long time before the first cub makes it in. The second follows shortly after. The third and fourth take slightly longer.  
Kira shoves her. "Why? Why did you just stand by while that fucking creature did that to him?"  
Clearly, Nachte has failed as a parent and these children must be corrected.  
They jump back when Kira meets the floor from the force of Givan's backhand. "You don't talk to superiors like that. Ever."  
Kira's foot collides with Givan's shin, infuriating her. Her own foot knocks into the girl's face and Luca, smelling of sandalwood and incense, comes over. "Please," He says. "We just watched our Master die. We don't understand why you stood by and allowed it."  
"You did the same," Says Givan. "Don't expect me to do what you refuse to do, yourselves."  
"He told us to stay back!" Says Haven.  
"And you chose to obey. You might have saved him, you might have died like him. We don't know now because he's dead." Givan almost pities them. Nachte has kept them in his own personal safety net.  
And now he's gone. The net is broken and she doubts they can swim.  
There are few things she can do. Leaving them is very high on her list. "Pack up," She says. "You're coming with me."  
They drag their feet, grumble and mildly resist.  
But Givan will have none of it. The Winter is bitter and she wants to get to the nearest shelter before it really sets in. One of them is a Human and she doubts he'll survive as long as they.

 

Loffen is quiet as she takes in the girl. "This is what Nachte wanted?"  
"It is," Says Givan. "His last request, in fact."  
Loffen's smell becomes heavy with grief. "How did he die?"  
"Jankets."  
A broken, hiccup sound escapes her throat. "Oh." It sounds more like the moan of an animal enduring a cruel hunter. "Oh no. Please tell me you aren't sure."  
"I was present," Says Givan, fingers sliding along the doorways sharp metal frame.  
Something tumbles off the waxed wooden desk and Givan thinks she hears Loffen stagger.  
"Why do you care so much? I didn't even know you knew him."  
"Nachte was my Nephew."  
Givan wishes she could look at Loffen, but touching her is off limits. "I don't follow. I thought many of King Sonere's-"  
"They were. But my family managed to get his brothers to safety and he was hidden."  
Givan shakes her head. "Are you ever going to have cubs of your own? First Nachte, now Kuden..."  
Dropping into a chair, Loffen says, "Now Rozolyn, too. It's what Monavere would have wanted. He kept his promises, you know?"  
Givan settles a hand on Rozolyn's shoulder before the girl can tell Loffen that Monavere is, indeed, alive. If he wanted her to know, she surely would.  
Besides, the wolves have followed Rozolyn and the cubs there and Monavere is no exception.

 

Stepping out into the crisp air and inhaling the sweet tobacco of the pipe, the crunching of snow steadily becomes louder, draws nearer.  
"Why didn't you want Loffen to know?"  
"That my brother bested me?" He asks. "That Xach liked to beat me?"  
Givan turns her head towards him and furrows her brow. "She doesn't have to know that."  
The snow shifts. "She will inevitably ask."  
Givan's fingers snag his cape, glide lightly up to his shoulder and pause.  
Huffing through his nose and leaning forwards, he says, "Go on. May as well."  
Her hand lightly traces his features. "Did Loffen love you?"  
"No," Says Monavere. "We were close when Kenjin started hunting us. Hunting my people."  
Her finger traces his lips, his top lip is full, the bottom narrow. "I didn't know."  
"Because they don't talk about that."  
"Why?"  
He pulls away then. "We are shamed when we don't win."  
Givan shrugs. "I'd rather live than win."  
Monavere scuffs his foot in the snow. "I'd rather die than lose."

 

Haven stays with Rozolyn, which doesn't surprise Givan for an instant.  
The route they take leads them through different Territories and Luca frequently asks to take the long way. Givan refuses. Many of these people are used to her trespassing and don't bother with her anymore.  
Once the long, long trip is made and the gates are shut behind them, Givan can breathe easier.  
Kira breaks away from her though, screaming for Haunku, who seems to be running at a break-neck pace towards them.  
When they meet in the middle, and go silent, Givan is confused. "Where do you know her from?"  
"Kira is my sister."  
Givan wonders if maybe Luca has a distant, unknown relative she can dump the boy onto, as well. But years pass and no one shows up to claim him.

 

When Jyon first spies her, it's during Yanrik's coronation.  
He's come not in support of the new Queen, but to assassinate Itan. Orro has come with him.  
Jyon shifts, debating whether he should divert and speak to her, pipe twitching from the corner of his lips. Orro always found that funny.  
But he's not feeling humorous right now.  
He's tired and a little anxious.  
Everyone is in war gear, he's noticed, so people don't give a second glance to Orro and Jyon.  
Orro doesn't sleep well, though, having full knowledge that, if they get one detail wrong, he and Jyon ― Especially Jyon ― could die.  
But if Jyon is bothered by this, he doesn't show it. Not at all.  
Always as calm and assured as Orro's mother. Orro knows him as a constant. And Jyon is comfortable that way.

He sighs and the smoke from the pipe drifts out of his nostrils like a Relent in Winter.  
"It's so weird when you do that," Says Orro.  
Jyon glances at him, blows out a smoke ring. "Better?"  
Orro wonders how skilled his tongue must be if he's able to do that then promptly turns away from that trail of thought before realizing his Estarred is still looking at him. "Oh. Uh, yeah."  
Jyon smiles and rolls his eyes. "Awkward."  
"I know," Says Orro, "but we still love you."  
With a snort, Jyon glides his tongue along his top teeth. Returns his attention back to the woman in the crowd.  
She's near his age, dark hair and a profile that speaks of feminine features. Her figure is a little too thin and she carries two large, drum-shaped objects upon her straight, upright back. He imagines the baskets ー For, what purpose would she bring instruments? ー are light if such a wisp of a girl could carry them.  
A man, taller than she is, looks over her head and makes eye contact with Jyon.  
It's then he realizes this girl belongs to the Pride and his attentions are not wanted.  
Not by the girl, she still stands oblivious.  
But by Sech. The cunning snake that's always looking for something to pour his poison into.  
Jyon breaks the eye contact and continues watching the girl. He can feel the daggers Sech is trying to telepathically stab into his flesh, it prickles and makes him think Sech will wade through the crowd and come for his blood any moment.  
But Jyon is not scared of some girlish Southerner. He's the Prince in his Clan and he'll be damned if someone lower ranking comes between himself and what he deserves.  
The girl looks at him then, bright yellow-green meets light brown and he takes her in.  
She's got features that indicate she may be part of the Fargreft Clan, which likely makes her Rogue-built. But by her height, the width of her shoulders and how willowy she is, he thinks she's had Tarshish mixed into her blood somewhere.  
An arm wraps around the young woman's shoulders and she turns to the owner. She resists mildly when Sech pulls her against him, glaring at Jyon from over her head. Chikotsu looks over, too. First at Sech and the girl, then Jyon.  
Chikotsu is obviously Rogue-built. Broad shoulders, a waist that tapers but is still full of power, and a naturally aggressive demeanor. People move out of the way of the Pride's Prince. The freckles smattering his face bunch up in one section over his quirked brow.  
Jyon's eyes dart to the girl then back. Chikotsu slides his eyes to the pair again, lingers for a long time before returning to Jyon's. Instead of baring his teeth or returning attention to the Ceremony, he just shrugs.  
This surprises Jyon. He's not denying access, merely giving a, " _What will be, will be_ ," response.  
But Itan cannot be disregarded.  
Jyon turns back to the Ceremony, watching Sech and Chikotsu wordlessly bicker out of the corner of his eye.  
"Do you think they know what Itan did?" Whispers Orro.  
Jyon glances at him, notices others are tuning in. How could they not, with senses that are so accute?  
Jyon waits for Orro to subtly ask what he wants to know.  
"Is Niniai aware of what he is?"  
It sounds like an innocent question. People have been asking it, too. But this isn't about the Toko Family. This is about what was done to Orro's sister, Keteer. "Let's find out."

 

 

Ehao, when she appears, has a Male trailing after her, some one Givan recognizes the voice and smell ー like leather and copper ー as Zenchu.  
_Do we ever stop being interconnected_ , She wonders as they approach.  
"You and Kiren don't talk anymore?" Asks Ehao.  
Givan turns to retreat into her cabin. "What do you think?"  
"That you're selfish," Says Ehao oh- _so_ -lightly.  
Givan gets tired of hearing it. Kiren was just as selfish, if not more.  
"Go drown, Ehao."  
She snorts. "Not quite yet."  
Ehao smells like the ocean. It makes Givan remember the day they all stopped worrying for a few hours and lounged around in the water.  
Reminds her of the very moment she realized she loved Kiren.  
Shaking herself out and trying to block Ehao from her sense of smell, she turns and begins down the stone walkway. But the other woman follows. "I need you to put yourself aside."  
"Why should I?"  
"Because the Kaddesh are bloodthirsty and Niiniai is in the crossfire."  
Givan turns unseeing eyes on Ehao. "That is not my problem. She's a weakling anyway."  
"But she belongs to Kiren's Clan."  
" _Did_ belong. Doesn't anymore. And I see no reason why you can't go."  
Zenchu shifts, the smell of copper intensifies.  
"I'm dying, Givan."  
"But here you stand. Stop trying to manipulate me."  
"The healer has said I've only a few months left. And I would like to spend them here."  
Givan is silent for a long moment. Her world is rapidly changing. A life without Nachte meant little. A life without Kiren was difficult but so beautiful.  
But Ehao?  
Would she be able to relive the long cozy Winters with the knowledge that she could never have a real one again, with this woman? "Did you already say goodbye to them?"  
"I did."  
Givan raises her hand in the direction of Ehao's voice and her expression is recognizable in stark clarity.  
Her fingers trace over thin, drawn brows, tattoos to cover a nasty scar over her left eye, thinned lips and sloped shoulders.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Whispers Givan, trying to memorize every detail, from the sound of her voice to the smell of illness and sea salt. She's thin. Far too thin.

 

When she enters, Kiren comes trotting up. But Givan does not turn to her. "I have come to speak with Father."

They serve her tea that she does not touch. She is cold to them and they are as polite as they can manage to her. Honestly, many of them were hurt by her angry departure. But Sasayo, thinking about it, has to admit that they've lost so many, every member of their Family is precious. They always seek to keep anyone they can. They are quite close-knit.  
But not Givan. At least not any more.  
"Itan has taken after his uncle. Are you aware of this?"  
There's silence around the table.  
"Givan, that's a pretty stark accusation."  
Givan's white eyes turn upon Sasayo with such accuracy, it startles him.  
She isn't capable of guile, has never had any interest in it. "He has done harm to Kira's daughter. They are going to kill him. I would suggest you remove Niiniai while you can."  
Sasayo is still trying to understand what has happened.  
Kiren reaches over, lightly touches Givan's hand. "Thank you."  
Givan jerks her hand back as though burned, stands as though utterly repulsed. Sasayo notices Kiren biting her lip and angling her gaze up and to the rafters.  
"I didn't do it for _you._ " Givan's voice is rough, hissed through teeth bared.  
Sasayo thinks Kiren is going to cry soon.  
Givan has never forgiven Kiren.  
And now Kiren is paying for it.  
They never expected Givan to return. Never expected her to be so cruel to a woman she once loved fervently, once wanted to be the Chosen of.  
Sasayo blames Chiikets and his rules, even if they kept order.  
Givan blames all of them, especially Kiren, for being weak.  
Kiren has never expressed regret or hatred or blame.  
But she has always loved Givan. "Then whom for?"  
"Ehao."  
Kiren drops her head to the table and Givan's head turns in her direction.  
As much as Sasayo wants to give Givan a piece of his mind for tearing apart his faithful Second, he has to put his daughter first. "How long do we have?"  
Givan's unseeing eyes pierce him, too. "A week and a half."  
That's enough time to mobilise. Enough time to save his daughter. Enough time for Kiren to heal from this.  
"Thank you, Givan. And please send thanks to Ehao for us?"  
Givan shrugs, already halfway out the door. "Sure."

 

There's smoke filling the air and it makes Givan wish she didn't travel alone. But she hates when seeing people insist on treating her as though she were helpless. It disgusts her.  
Death permeates the air and she is further confused. She knows this route like the back of her hand. Knows its contours and rest stops. This should be a village, not a mass of death and burning wood.  
Her instincts scream for her to run but she knows by the thick stench of blood there's nowhere to go. "Dashiir."  
"Bitch."  
"What brings you here?" Perhaps she shouldn't be speaking calmly with Anayo's Second. But her life is going to be cut dramatically short no matter what at this point.  
The scent of rust and smoke becomes choking as he nears her. Givan isn't bothered when he rubs a gore-soaked hand up her bare arm. "I've come bearing a message."  
"Which would be?"  
"It's begun."  
Givan tries to keep track of him as he circles her, it's quite aggravating. "What has?"  
Cool metal presses against her temple and she wonders, with pure curiosity, what it is.  
"The rise of the Humans," He says. "And Anayo with them."  
Givan shrugs. "I thought he was already at the top."  
The metal presses harder into her flesh and a thrill of fear ripples down her spine. "He is going to crush and assimilate every last one of you."  
"And what do the Humans have to do with this?"  
The metal withdraws, Givan waits. She thinks her blood would be chilled if she could see his face.  
"The ones on Mainland don't take kindly to being pushed around."  
Givan snorts at that. "They'll get used to it."  
"So will you," Says Dashiir before the smell of rust fades.  
Givan is forced to navigate home blind in both sight and smell.

More than once does she regret being alone.


	49. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anayo sets the wheels of Fate into motion for the whole island.  
> Ma'hale is conflicted.

Ma'hale likes people to think he isn't aware of what's happening. That he doesn't know about the blade that sometimes hovers over his throat after Mercy has been particularly friendly. And every time, he waits with baited breath.  
A glance at the green-haired Tarshish reveals his intense reading of some book he picked up from the Trading Grounds. Dark eyes meet his before flicking his gaze back down to the pages.  
He knows that one day, Mercy will be able to press that cold metal against his throat and slide it over his flesh, pouring his life over carefully stuffed blankets and pillows. Maybe he should tell Anayo, but he can't bear to think of what the man will do to his Yona.  
Because, while it's so obvious that Mercy is a traitor ― He may as well have the word tattooed to his forehead ― he has been with Ma'hale for years. Ma'hale needs him.

 

A great beast lowers itself onto the large, clear piece of land and Human men trot out of it. Ma'hale's hair stands on end, looking at them in odd war-gear. Ma'hale has seen guns before, Anayo's men used them sometimes, but all of these men have guns.  
Anayo and Dashiir watch quietly. A man steps forward, sandy-blonde hair and bright blue eyes.  
Anayo nods to Dashiir who moves only a foot or two from his side.  
The Human man trots up alongside a burly brunette with narrowed eyes and twisted lips but they stop short about twenty feet away.  
"What brings you to visit us, Mister Williams?" Dashiir calls.  
The burly man talks in a language that sounds familiar to Ma'hale, but he does not know.  
Turning to them, the burly man says, "We need a little assistance."  
Dashiir turns to glance at Anayo, who nods. "And this would be?"  
Mister Williams steeples his fingers and looks cold while he talks, something about the way he holds himself as though he were sad strikes Ma'hale as disturbingly similar to his Father's body language.  
The burly man says, "A group of men kidnapped his fiancè. We need you to rescue her at all costs. You can do whatever you want with the rest of them."  
Anayo's eyes light up and Ma'hale tries to share a glance with Mercy. But the Tarshish won't meet his eye.  
"Tell me how we may find this group of unrighteous men?"  
"They will be unmistakable," Says Williams.  
Anayo's smirk grows even though Ma'hale can see him trying to keep it under control. "We will need to be on an even playing field."  
"Of course." The burly man tosses a rifle to Dashiir who catches is it lightly and Ma'hale wonders what Anayo's real plan for these weapons are.  
"When do we expect them?"  
"Very soon. They'll come by cargo plane." There's a moment's pause. Long enough for a breath before Williams speaks and the burly man says, "And Mister Williams would like to stay until you do find her."  
Ma'hale, standing many feet away from his Father, can feel the wild energy, the blood lust, and greed that's been stirred under the man's skin.  
When he looks at Ma'hale, a deep, terrifying plan in those slitted pupils, the young man shivers and nods his agreement.  
Anayo's voice deepens just slightly when he says, "We are happy to accommodate him."

 

Ma'hale thinks about his Mother over Evening meal. Why she adopted a Human child instead of coming back for him. Mercy has voiced that he thinks the Human is because she felt guilt and thought Ma'hale was dead. The Human was merely a way to atone.  
Hyon is watching him, chewing her lip instead of the meal the servants have slaved over to get just right. "What's wrong, Ma'hale?"  
Ma'hale's half sister squirms out of Hyon's lap and crawls over to Ma'hale, who picks her up rather quickly. She coos and pulls at his mouth and hair.  
"Thinking about my mom again," He says.  
Hyon sighs. "I'm sorry. I know it must have been scary living in that village when it a was burned out by plague."  
Ma'hale will never forget the way his Human Mother had tried to protect him, had cried and begged him to leave as he held her, watched her become feverish and slip through his fingers.  
And the other villagers blamed him for the plague. His Mother had a stillborn baby before him and they thought she had made a deal with the devil to bring him back, thus his strength and height. At one point, he'd believed them. Then his Mother told him he was Half-Human and that he was normal. Completely normal.  
When he told the other children, instead of being accepted, they thought he was the devil's son or an abomination that nature was punishing them for.  
Sometimes, he wonders if the plague was his fault.  
He never wished the awful outcome on them, though. He just wanted them to like him.  
Anayo and Dashiir share a glance before the former clears his throat. "Would you like to see your blood Mother?"  
Ma'hale perks as Hyon worries her lip to bleeding. Gao babbling is all that can be heard for a moment.  
Smiling down at his sister, he debates how he would feel. If it would be worth it.  
"We won't be able to take you after tomorrow. We'll be getting ready for that hunt we agreed on. I won't have time to take you."  
Ma'hale glances at a skeptical Mercy. "Can I talk to her?"  
Anayo shakes his head. "I don't know how she'll respond to merely seeing you." Ma'hale watches Hyon's eyes bounce between himself and his Father. "Looking back, she wasn't in her right mind when she left. And I don't think she's gotten better."  
Hyon looks guilty and sad and Ma'hale thinks his adoptive mother is so very empathetic. So very beautiful in her kindness.

 

"Where's Father?" Dawn won't make her appearance, for another hour or two but Ma'hale knows they'll be covering a lot of ground today. _And for only a glimpse,_ He thinks bitterly.  
Dashiir frowns. "Sorry, Young Prince, he got called away by an urgent matter."  
Ma'hale thinks Anayo just doesn't want to see his Mother again.  
The trip is grueling and Mercy is constantly complaining under his breath, Ma'hale ignores it fervently.  
Traversing Sho's Territory is easy enough. They watch Dashiir very closely but stay out of the way. But they avoid the Pride while they cross their Territory. Dashiir is a wanted man and they would do just about anything to have his head on a pike. He has never told Ma'hale why. And maybe the boy doesn't want to know.  
There's a woman standing at the crest of a large hill and Ma'hale knows. Partially because the wind sweep her long red hair, whips it around her.  
Partially because his instincts ― that voice from just below his sternum ― come to life and tell him to go to her. To ask her why. To just listen to her voice.  
But mostly because when she looks down at them, she freezes, muscles drawing tense as her skin grows pale and her face ― The look on her face.  
He takes an anxious step forward but Dashiir's hand on his shoulder stops him. "He said you could see her. No other contact."  
Ma'hale is suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. He wants so badly it hurts. "I know but, Dashiir-!" He's so worked up he can't even stay still.  
Renjin has already started a cautious approach, hands on the pommels of her knives. "Why are you here?"  
"It's no concern of yours," Says Dashiir, gripping Ma'hale's arm a little harder than necessary.  
Mercy stays silent, unsure if he should do something.  
But Ma'hale outright fights, Dashiir. "I know you know who I am!" He yells at Renjin.  
Her lips twist and Ma'hale pauses to see a chill roll down her frame. "Do you _want_ to go with that man?"  
Her voice is calm but the question stirs so many things inside of Ma'hale. Hope. Anger. Confusion. "Why do you care?"  
She takes a step back at the sharp accusation in his question. Her head turns away from the boy. "I've done wrong by you, then?"  
Dashiir watches the exchange intently. Ma'hale wants to cry and scream until he's hoarse. Wants to shake her and be held by her. He wants the years she was supposed to spend with him ― With his Father ― back.  
Is this what madness feels like? Being so unsure of what one wants that they can't even voice it? Perhaps madness is hereditary?  
He doesn't even realize he's crying until he's sniffling snot back into his head. And fury becomes white hot when she dares to look concerned. He suddenly understands that his Father was protecting him, wanting to ease him into his emotions, instead of this. This overwhelming menagerie of swirling confusion that makes him want to kill everyone and claw his own eyes out.  
"I'm sorry I didn't listen," He tells Dashiir between hiccups. "I'm sorry."  
Taking that as a sign to turn Ma'hale around and start their journey home, Dashiir says, "I know."  
Mercy follows silently.  
"I hope you can forgive me one day," Says his Mother.  
He can't bring himself to respond. He does look back at her once more, just to see her. Part of him is angry that she's going to just let him go.  
Actually, most of him is angry that she's going to just let him go.  
Ripping his arm out if Dashiir's grip he storms past Mercy and towards the stoic woman.  
She watches him, seems to be taking in every detail down to how many freckles are smattered over his face. "You don't care, do you?" He yells at her.  
She looks conflicted for a long moment. "If I didn't care, I would have snuffed you out when I birthed you." He's able to pick up a waver in her voice.  
"But you didn't want me."  
She finally, finally meets his eye then and says, "Is he hurting you?"  
Ma'hale shoves her then, hits her and spits curses as he shoves her again and she falls to the grass. Pulling the pistol from the bag on his hip and pointing it in her face brings a surge of satisfaction.  
She stares at him, apathetic. "You aren't going to feel better if you do this."  
He cocks it, takes the safety off. "Because you know what's best for me? You don't even know my fucking name."  
" _Ma'hale,_ " She says before he can even close his mouth. "I know who you are."  
"You don't!" He screams.  
She stares calmly into the barrel and says, "I suppose it's apt. If you really believe this will heal you, then go on and fire."  
Ma'hale wants to but when his finger alights on the trigger, he notices how hard his hands are shaking. He wants to. He _needs_ to.  
But he **can't.**  
"Renjin?" The imposter is going to crest the hill any moment and Ma'hale makes a split second decision.  
The gun fires the moment he sees that horrible Human. His replacement.  
Renjin's eyes are closed, body strung like a bowstring. "I'm sorry."  
Ma'hale is trembling, angry and drenched in a cold sweat. He's just killed a man. There's blood on his hands now. Drawing himself up, he flicks the safety back on and tucks the gun away. Kicking Renjin's calf gets her attention and she reluctantly meets his eye. "I will never forgive you," He says.  
Her eyes drop to the grass swaying in the breeze. "I know."  
Finally, he can leave. Dashiir and Mercy look at him with two starkly different expressions. Dashiir looks proud but Mercy is shaking his head, arms folded. He's not going to say anything in front of a superior, but there's an argument brewing.  
"I am here if he's hurting you," She calls after him.  
He forces himself to keep walking. Tries not to think about telling her that she's the only one who's hurt him. All of this is her fault. Dashiir's hand on his shoulder steadies him.  
Anayo's there at the gate when they get there, arms open. Ma'hale doesn't even have to be told once. He throws himself into his Father's arms and cries. Anayo never asks how it went.  
But Ma'hale knows he doesn't have to.  
She's not crazy.  
She's heartless.  
"Don't worry," Says Anayo, "we'll rescue her from herself. We'll get her back. I promise."


	50. Act I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief overview.  
> Sorajin's rivalry with Renjin comes into fruition.  
> Unfortunately for Renjin, it's under circumstances she couldn't really have expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add some details about the dynamic. (Although it's likely unnecessary, I like writing Sorajin... Just a little.)

He's twelve when a rival group invades.  
Brutal and quick, they're mostly men. The women in Renjin's group could barely be contained when they were spotted on the horizon. Renjin thought they had another day to prepare.  
She was wrong.  
So here Sorajin is, running at a break-neck pace to the next skirmish when his attention is disrupted by a man closing in on a bear cub. It roars and snaps at him and he laughs the entire time.  
Sorajin's blood runs hot like magma that one of his own is being toyed with. A cub, no less!  
When the man lays hands on the child Skin-Walker, uttering all sorts of talk about skinning them, Sorajin's knife makes its home in the soft spot at the back of the man's skull.  
The child shifts back, face tear-streaked and red and he realizes it's Sven.  
The girl practically tackles him, trampling the dead man's body. "Thank you, Estarred," She says. "Thank you."  
He wraps his arms around her and assures her that she's safe. That he won't let anyone hurt her.  
Because that's what the Heir does.

 

Hours after the adrenaline wears off and the men who survived have fled, Sorajin notices the blood caked onto his skin. And it still feels caked on after he's washed his hands many times over.  
He rubs his itching nose, his allergies have been awful this week, and the healed scabs come loose. After wiping his nose with a handkerchief, he settles it onto a side table to be washed.  
_Washed..._  
Why does it feel like there's dried blood on his hands?

Oh right. Because there still is.

Renjin finds him sitting on the cold wood floor, staring at his bloody hands. She crouches beside him and waits.  
When he can finally face her, he raises his hands to her, not for her inspection. For her help.  
"I did this," He whispers. "It won't come off."

Renjin's gaze searches his hands before meeting his eyes. "You protected."

"I have killed!"

"You have defended. Sven, Magda, Bech..."

"I killed people before I died."

"Then add about one third of those lives. You haven't murdered anyone." Her eyes are soft, hands gently taking his and brushing the crusted blood from his palms, some of it tumbles to the ground in pieces, but much of it stays stuck in the spider's web lines on his hands, unwilling to drop to the ground like dark red snowflakes, so she rises and fetches a wet cloth before returning to wipe his hands down. "You have protected many."  
His hands are clean but he's still trembling like a leaf. After a long moment of deliberation, Renjin pulls him against her. "I know, Peya. I know." She cradles him through the night as though he were a babe and lets him cry.  
Sven pledges allegiance to him the next day but it'll be two weeks later that he realizes _Peya_ translates to " _My child._ "

 

"Sit down," She tells them a day after they've returned from the Trading Grounds.  
Iiyo, who, strangely enough, is present instead of Roxoi, sits. Sven has been sitting at the table since she realized she wasn't in trouble. Sorajin sits beside her, but Takka frowns and Sanchu obviously wants to protest, Renjin is persistent. " _Please_. Sit down."  
When they do, Renjin paces the floor for a long moment before finally turning towards them. "I'm pregnant."  
Sanchu's hands come down on the table hard enough to shake it but as he moves to stand, Takka claps a hand onto his shoulder and shoves him, none-too-gently, back into his chair.  


Iiyo seems to be the only calm one out of the three of them. "The healer said that wasn't possible. Even Takka said-"

"We know what I said," Says Takka, tone peevish.

Sorajin raises his hand. "Can someone explain this to me?"

Renjin watches him for a moment, calculating, before sighing. "Some things I have been through caused trauma to my body. The healers have told me that my chances of conceiving were remarkably low. Half-Human children aren't rare these days," She says, "but they are very difficult to achieve."

"We were never made to interbreed," Says Takka. "The only reason you see so many Half-Breeds is that no Male from our Race can keep his pants on."

A million and one possibilities fly through his head and one of them, he hopes, is his going back to his family. "So what does this mean for Sven and I?"

"Likely, nothing," Says Renjin. "Chances are high that I'll miscarry."

 

Fingering the Rosary Beads, at thirteen, Sorajin watches the man as he works the lock. "You know that's the closet, right?"

The man's form tenses, hair standing on end, but he doesn't look back. "Were you just going to watch me try to break out?"

"Yeah," Says Sorajin. And maybe he should be mad his newest retainer is trying to desert him. Maybe he should be sad that this man is taking advantage of his kindness.  
But Sorajin knows that he's scared and angry and disoriented.

The man slowly turns to look at him then. "Who in the _fuck_ locks their closet?"

His Master had specifically told him to keep anything particularly dangerous out of this older man's grasp. He'd put his weapons in that closet. "Live with Renjin long enough and you do irrational things." A measuring glance is given. Sorajin leans back against the wall. "You don't have to believe me. But it's completely true."

"You just like fucking with me."

"I'm abstinent, thank you."

The man's hackles rise, hands clenching and unclenching. "That's not cute." His voice is deep and rough and hissed from clenched teeth.

Sorajin instantly feels guilty. "Sorry. Sorry. You're right. I should have thought about it." At the startled, wide-eyed expression he receives, the Heir says, "I'm just not used to you, yet. Please have patience."

 

Looking at Ranka, he's a little frustrated that only her eyes are visible. While they're beautiful...  
.... He wants to see her _face._  
But many of the women are covered and the men harass the women of Renjin's Clan with no more than their eyes.  
_They're perverts,_ Sorajin thinks. _Using the covers their women wear as an excuse to make our women uncomfortable._  
Tand gives Tishta as a sort of dowry and while that mildly bothers Sorajin, what Renjin and Takka see as a **real** problem, is that Tand doesn't want Ranka unveiled until after the marriage.  
Renjin thinks that she's got her father's blood. That she isn't as beautiful, strong, or able to bear as he promised.  
Takka thinks she's just some slave he picked up.  
After the wedding ceremony and the partying, Renjin wastes no time cornering Ranka in a room with the Family and yanking off the _Lai_ that covered her face and hair.  
And suddenly, Sorajin can't fathom why Tand would hide this woman's face. Doesn't understand the way she pulls away from Renjin and cowers.  
But Renjin and Takka are both furious.  


Renjin's hands clench then release before clenching again."I'm going to _kill him,_ " She says.

"I'll fetch Ranka," Says Takka through gritted teeth.

"Wait! Wait!" Says Sorajin. "She's not Ranka?"

"No." Renjin's gaze turns on the trembling girl then. "This is one of her younger sisters."

"Punish Tand if you like but leave the oldest sister where she is."

Renjin throws her hands up. "Are you planning to just send these two home then?"

"No," Says Sorajin. He can barely manage to look away from his wife to make eye contact with his adoptive Mother. "I married her. I'm keeping her."

Takka steps towards him. "She is damaged goods, Sorajin. Used by how many men? We simply don't know."

"And Ranka is probably ' _Damaged goods_ ' by this point too."

"Ranka has good standing. A reputation. Training!"

Sorajin's left hand swipes through the air, sparks shooting out of his fingertips. Renjin's face twists briefly with what might be envy. "And we can't change that? We're just going to cast her to the Jankets and never think of her again?!"

Renjin and Sorajin stand off for some time before she brushes imaginary dirt from her left shoulder with her right hand. "Fine. You married her. You keep her. And you make her worthy to lead."

"Thank you, Mistress Renjin."

" _'Mistress.'_ Fucking molk," She says.

The Matriarch brushes past the girl, Takka follows. And Sorajin's wife cowers under Takka's cold gaze.  
The door slides shut, rather forcefully, and then he's alone with his new wife.  


"I'm sorry," She says. "I thought my life would get easier if I did this."

He is disappointed that he's been lied to. A little mad that he's probably been cheated. But he can't send her back. It would be wrong and that wasn't what his Mother taught him about marriage, even though his Mother married a lot younger than he did. Many people in his village were married for things other than love and those marriages were, sometimes, the most beautiful he'd seen.  
He just hopes he can learn to love her.  


"I'm Sorajin."

"Ruuka, my lord."

 _Already out to an awkward start,_ He thinks. _It can only get better from here._

 

Lying side-by-side in the dark, her soft breath betrays that she's still awake.

"What is it you think about?"

There's another few moments of silence before she says, "What if I don't have anything to give you?"

He wracks his brain, not only for the answer, but what she means and where the question comes from. She likely isn't a virgin, and after some thinking, Sorajin realizes he isn't really either. So it's an even field. Unless she'd frigid. Which is a possibility. That makes things more complicated.

"All I ask," He whispers, "is that you try."  
Her body shifts onto its side, green eyes meet his. He lies on his back, head turned towards her. Their world drops into darkness for a brief second when she blinks and, finally, he rolls onto his side to face her. "And I will lay down my life for you."

 

The first time they ever have a real intimate moment, they've narrowly escaped a Jankets. Barely making it out alive. They'd been good friends for nearly eight months. But when she looks at him, grinning and trying to catch her breath, he can't help himself.  
His fingertips brush her hair out of her face. And she darts in and melds her mouth against his.  
One of the best moments of his life.  
Neither of them can stop smiling at each other like idiots for the rest of the day. He doesn't love her yet.  
But he thinks that he'll be able to soon.

 

At thirteen months, she throws him over her shoulder and laughs girlishly at his stunned look, dirt and dust billowing from where he hit the earth.  
And, silhouetted by the early morning sun, she looks like a goddess.  
She stops laughing when she sees the way he's looking at her and kneels above his head, expression surprised, wisps of hair framing her face.  
His hands reach up to cradle the curves of her jaw and bid her downwards to him. He must have looked fierce, though, because of the hesitant way her mouth brushed his.  
He isn't really sure how they end up sprawled with skin on skin, her head on his chest. But Ruuka is fine with it.  
_Nothing is better than this,_ He thinks.

 

The regret he feels about Kieve, Ruuka tries to assuage. She doesn't try to minimize it or tell him he should get over it. She wants him to know that it gets easier. That Kieve made his choices and some times, one can't save everyone.  
Sorajin clings to the knowledge that maybe Kieve died doing the right thing. He wishes he knew though. Wonders what would have happened if he'd have trusted the Tarshish.

 

The first time he realizes the real meaning of the name Renjin gave to him, it's after Ma'hale fired his gun and killed him.  
Sorajin knows he died because Renjin is sitting next to him, staring off into space. She was waiting for him.  
If he had been merely unconscious, he'd still have this horrible ache in his head.  
But she would have man-handled him back to the Temple.  


"I'm sorry I got you killed." She says.

"I'm sorry you didn't tell him the truth."

She tenses, glances at him, eyes half-mast in annoyance. Sorajin knows she's really trying to mask her confusion and fear that he knows what she's hiding.  
He doesn't. But he can still use doublespeak and hope she'll let something slip.

Every word is weighed when she says, "Some things are better left unsaid."

No matter how he approaches her on it, she refuses to elaborate.

 

It's a regular day, get up and train, have breakfast with the family, talk about plans. Sorajin helps build more houses and do what needs done in the fields. Ruuka and Sven accompany him.  
The twins, ten now, work on schooling and intense training.  
But before he can make it out to the fields, something huge flies overhead.  
Sorajin has only ever seen them crash.  
This one lands, gracefully, in the center of the island.

On the No-Go Zone.

It's not that anything is wrong with it, Sorajin knows. But, according to most, bad things have happened in that building.  
Some even claim it's haunted.  
And while Sorajin, is religious, (Which is hard with an Atheist Master, mind you. Sanchu is more agnostic. So their ideals match little better than his with Renjin's,) he doesn't particularly believe in ghosts. He believes in demons. He believes in angels.  
But, he finds spirits a little far-fetched.  
He still gets chills when they go around the facility. Something is wrong there.  
And then he sees Renjin taking off towards them in war gear. Sorajin drops his sickle and basket and beats a dead run.  
Sven and Ruuka, behind him, pestering him with questions.

"What is it?" He asks Renjin when he catches up.

"Humans," She says, eyes straight ahead. "And they have weapons we can use."

Sorajin throws himself against her and they roll several feet as a heap of limbs and aggression. Renjin shoves him to the dirt. "What are you doing, brat?"

Trying to hit her while he's pinned proves to be a bad idea. "You aren't going to ask nicely for everything they have and then some."

"Of course I'm not." She sounds as though she's just going to pick some fruit. Like she isn't about to shake down some unsuspecting, innocent people.

She shifts to her feet and Sorajin swipes them out from under her. "I can't let you."

She lands on him and knocks the air out of him with her weight. Her fist cracks into his jaw. "I'm not playing with you. If I don't do this, some one else will and I can't risk anyone having a one-up on us _again. _"__  
The pain leaves him stunned long enough that when he can focus again, she's on her feet.  
He rolls and shoots forward, trying to keep ahead of her. Ruuka stands, arms folded and head shaking, but does not pursue.  
Sven, in bear form, charges up beside him, then twists back to her bipedal form. Sorajin takes a brief half-second to marvel at how seamless the transformation always is.  
When coming upon a fallen tree trunk, Sorajin is forced to partially climb it.  
Renjin's hand smacks onto the bark as she catapults herself over.  
Sorajin, envious of her abilities and irked by her determination, gives her (slightly weaker) right leg a rough shove when it's in striking distance. Instead of landing smoothly, she staggers and it gives him a few scant seconds. Sven leaps the downed tree like a small puddle.

It's times like this that Sorajin hates his own handicaps. "Commander Sven!"

She catches up to him, both still charging ahead at a dead sprint.

And while Sorajin can keep up longer than Renjin, he needs to be able to handle whatever he's walking into.  
Or running into, more accurately.  
"Yes, Master Sorajin?" Asks Sven between breaths.

"You know how we've all talked about the fact that Renjin and I are part of two different regimes?" At her quizzical look and slow nod, he says, "We've already discussed that you can only be loyal to one. It's time for you to choose now."

At Sven's shaken look, he offers a half-smile. "You're the tipping point between who is going to reach these Mainlanders first, Commander."  
She looks conflicted for two - three - four - more paces before skidding, kicking up rocks and dirt, and turning to face Renjin.

"I'm sorry, Mistress!"

Renjin's surprise only lasts for a moment. And Sven won't be able to hold her off for very long.

But it's enough.

"Just you wait til I get my hands on you!" Screams Renjin behind him in such a fury, Sorajin is pretty sure she's going to kill him for real. "You're going to curse your mother for birthing you!"

Sorajin doesn't even look back, she'll catch up soon enough. Vines tangle with his limbs, twigs _snap-crackle_ and _twang_ as he races through the thick forest.

__

By the time he's there, it's dark and he's easing out of an old, rusted airduct onto a creaky wooden shelf, his knee shifts just the wrong way and a box full of cans clatters to the floor.  
Cursing himself, he drops the the floor and, unable to tolerate the mess, starts putting the cans back into the box.

"Hello?" Says a woman. But the word she uses takes Sorajin back to the language his Father taught his Mom and himself before passing from an infected wound that didn't heal properly.  
"Is some one there?" She asks and Sorajin ducks under the counter as a beam of light hits the beige wall behind him.  
Slinking around the counter as hesitant steps trail to the side he was on before, he positions himself and observes her.  
She's slight, short blond hair and an anxious posture. There's something that looks suspiciously like metal, too.  
Then she tenses. Whipping around before Sorajin can do anything but stare at her. 

She screams and he does the only thing he can think of to prove he means no harm, leather clad hands spring up in front of his own chest. " _Wait!_ "  
But he knows it's too late because she's already pointed her firearm at him.  
And he wishes he'd broken her neck instead when she immediately pulls the trigger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes TtIW...  
> This means I'll probably do other one-shots from time to time.  
> I'll also focus on Neighborhood Watch, too! Haha...  
> Thanks for taking the journey with me!  
> Til next time!


End file.
